Showing posts with label math. Show all posts
Showing posts with label math. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

March Drives-Me-Mad-Ness

    Clever title!!
Yet another year where I won't need to follow March Madness. Go Ducks.

     I can't bring myself to do March Madness. There are two vital, essential pieces to enjoying and participating in March Madness: You either have a team you care about in the tournament (nope), or you fill out a bracket and enter some sort of a betting pool. I can't bring myself to do the latter.
     You see, I hate being wrong. What I hate even more than being wrong is being factually, demonstrably wrong. Usually if I am wrong about something I can weasel, lie, manipulate, distort and blame to deflect my wrongness. I can't do that with a busted bracket. So I don't make brackets.
     I've tried. I've looked at them and tried to imagine how they will shake down. But I don't watch college basketball and I don't know anything except for who the powerhouse names are. So I'll have a bracket with teams like Duke, North Carolina, Kentucky, Indiana (what?!) Arizona (huh?) UConn of course, and a token SEC/Big East team make their elite eights and go from there. Of course I am wrong somewhere. I am more wrong than most other people. I hate it.
     If a team I care about is in the dance (read: Oregon), than it's almost worse. Should I play favorites and put them in the Elite Eight? Should I understand that they are never that good and knock them out in the first round? These decisions stress me out. There's two main options: 1) I put them deep into the tournament. This means I am either rooting for my team to win, knowing that when they lose I will be doubly let down, or knowing that if they go farther than I predicted I will have some amount of disappointment and can't fully enjoy their success. 2) I have them lose in the first or second round, which results in me just rooting for my favorite team to lose and that's annoying.

Ugh. What about this isn't stressful?!


     Do you see how impossible this is!?
     This is an issue with sports in general. Your team will ultimately lose, unless they win it all, and your team won't win it all. It's a guaranteed disappointment. I guess this is an issue with most of life. Louis CK does a stand-up bit about how marriage, like buying a puppy, is an investment in disappointment. When you bring a puppy home, you are telling your family "Someday soon, maybe in 3 years or 12 years, we are going to be sad!" This is how I feel with March Madness

     It causes me to miss out. I am not drawn to watch the games, because I don't have any vested interest, and the basketball isn't really that good. I didn't get to see Stephan Curry blow up 5 years ago, I generally missed out on the Butler runs, and I just avoid conversations for a couple of weeks. The rest of the world is having fun and excited and has an outlet until we hit spring, and I am just glad that no one will know how little I know about college basketball these days.
     This is honestly part of why I love math. I can do a problem and be right. There's no question as to whether or not I am right, most of the time. Additionally, it has taught me how to argue and use logic to my advantage, so when I am wrong, it is probably due to some gray area of some sort, and I can deflect.
     Also, I am a very healthy, normal person with no social issues.

Friday, February 17, 2012

Criticism

     "Can I just say, you can be a real ass."

     I haven't been the best teacher this term. I've noticed that my energy and patience are much lower than usual. I respond less frequently to emails. I am finishing my grading more slowly, and have made a lot more mistakes in grading (and while teaching) than I am comfortable with. This hasn't sat well with me, as the term has wore on, but I haven't really dealt with it either.
     The day I gave my first test in one of my classes, about three weeks ago now, I got a note from a student (which stated it was written on behalf of at least a couple of students). These students felt that I moved too quickly when teaching, and that I needed to give more time on the test I had them take. I considered their arguments (I feel that I often do move too quickly), but in that scenario there were extenuating circumstances.

     Today, however, I was approached in back-to-back classes. In my math 65 course, a student told me about how he was struggling. He was a very frank, honest and mature person. He told me he thought I was a fine teacher and that if I taught anything but math he'd be "all about" my class, but that he needs more hand-holding and coddling in math (his words). I get this from students a lot. I think all teachers of entry-level math do. Students come in with such a fear of the subject, and a history of frustration, that we are both losing the battle before class starts.
     He explained that he didn't find me approachable. That it took him a lot of nerve to talk to me after class. And that he didn't think he was the only one that felt that way. Okay.

     A couple of weeks ago, in another class, a student did very poorly on her test. She talked to me after I returned the graded tests and asked if she could retake it. I asked her why she thought she would do better the next time, and she told me she met with a tutor (after the test) and understands things better now. I told her she could re-work the test, and if she did improve I'd give her a retake. She didn't improve. I think she felt that I was being dismissive of her (which, in all honesty, at that point I was). I asked her what she was in school for, and she wants to be an elementary school teacher.
    About a week later I tried to talk with her again about her plans and her future. I was trying to get a read on the sort of help she needed, or if it was worth an investment of my time. (It's kind of hard to view someone as "worthy" of extra help, but it happens). She told me she was going to have to quit school after this term because of her baby that was coming soon.
     Well, today in her class I gave a quiz. She finished last, and as she finished she said, to no one in particular, "Math takes me a while, but I'm not stupid at math." I had made no suggestion of impatience or frustration that I was aware of, so I said "Oh yeah, I understand." She followed with "Can I just say, you can be a real ass."
     I wish I could say I was caught off guard.
     "I apologize, that's not my intention. Can you help me? I don't want to be an ass to you or anyone else, so can you tell me what I did that made you feel that way?"
     "When we had that conversation, you made me feel retarded."
     "I'm sorry, I would never try to make you feel retarded, and I don't think you are retarded. Which conversation was it? Was it the one about the test?"
     "No, the one after that."
     I assume she is referring to the one I described above, where I was trying to determine if I should be helping her more. I've run it through my mind several times, and I thought I was being understanding and genuine and showing concern. Apparently I was not coming across that way.

     In the span of about two hours, from two extremely different personalities and backgrounds, I had been told I was an unapproachable ass. Not the qualities of great teachers.

     I have been less approachable this term. I am a bit more - how do I say this - myself this term than I normally let myself be in front of the class. It's not like I am trying to be less approachable, but I am not putting forth the effort that I used to to make it clear that I am happy to help people and take any question. Like I said, I haven't been the best teacher this term. So I guess these two students have confirmed what I have been feeling for a while.
     But here's where I struggle: those tests that my students complained about? This class averages were 74% (good) and 80% (great!) - and I don't give easy tests. I have lots of students in all my classes that ask lots of questions. I crack jokes and they laugh, they crack jokes and I laugh. I am connecting with a strong majority of my students. That's a good thing. I used to work to connect with the others, and this term I am not. That's a problem.
   
     The term is now half over. Five weeks down, five to go. I am going to work at being more energetic, approachable, and not-assy. I think I can do better.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Seeing God in Your Experiences

     I once heard that people see God in a way that fits with their own experience. Specifically, artists see God as the "great artist in the sky," and architects see Him as "the great builder in the sky." If your job doesn't lend itself to that (i.e., He's not the great data enterer in the sky), then whatever you find important, or find meaning in, is where you might see Him. The great gardener, or great parent, or great grand-parent (ha!). You get the idea.
     This notion has stuck with me since then, probably because I found it to be true for me. I of course see God as "The Great Mathematician in the Sky." The difference between my view of Him and yours is that I think mine is more accurate.
     There are three traits associated with God at His most fundamental levels. He is omnipotent (all powerful), omniscient (all knowing) and omnipresent (all everywhere). Guess what! Mathematics pretty much contains all of those all-everything qualities as well!
     It's hard for me to convince someone that math is all powerful, because in and of itself it has no real power, but mathematics is both what governs all of our physical world and the primary tool that allows us to learn and discover anything and everything about existence. Since it applies to most everything, I call that darn-near omnipotent.
     The rules and logic of mathematics are quite literally inescapable. Wherever you go, 1 + 1 = 2, and whatever time period you are in you can solve an equation for x. This makes mathematics omnipresent.
     All knowing is a bit of a stretch, but I think it is still sensible. In terms of the hard sciences, everything that we think we discover, or have agreed upon to be a scientific truth must first be verified through mathematics. If the math isn't there, than the theory isn't either. The issue with this, and with all the sciences in my opinion, is that we are always learning more and more. We don't know if what we know now is the whole story or just a part of it. So I submit that mathematics are all knowing, we just don't know all mathematics.


     Calculus is tough to sum up as one main idea. If I had to, I would say it is the study of calculating the infinite. Finding the sums and products of numbers as they get infinitely big or infinitely small. I'd like to explain this real briefly, but to insert equations and fractions I have to use a diferent program, so the text size and style will change slightly, which I know is jarring. Please bear with me.

     The idea being, I can't actually calculate two-to-the-infinity. In fact, I can't even calculate two-to-the-really-really-big number (even 2^100 is absurdly huge). But since I can look at the smaller numbers, I can use those smaller numbers and the trends that I see appearing to know that if I could add up every possible term from one to infinity, they would add up to 1. I think that's cool.
     I can't truly comprehend infinity. If I could, it wouldn't really be infinite, now would it. I don't think there is a better word to describe God than the word infinite. This means that I can't truly comprehend God. If I could, He wouldn't really be God, now would He.
     But! When I started to wrap my ahead around this calculus idea - that I could determine what happens as things get infinitely big or infinitely small, I suddenly started to realize that I could understand God in a similar fashion. I can't understand the infinite depth of His power, presence or knowledge, but what I see in little pieces can give me a clue as to the larger trends. This might not be a radical idea (in fact I think it's really the only option), but the fact that I was able to do it with math excited me.
     I began to really dive into my studies. In college I did three things: play super smash brothers, play ultimate, and study math. I felt like the more I learned about math the more I was learning about God. I still do, and I eat it up every chance I get.

     Well, enter some random guy who informs me that everyone sees God in a fashion that fits their experiences. The great whatever in the sky. It turns out what I was doing with mathematics, everyone can do with everything. I'd felt that by learning more about math I was learning more about God because I felt like mathematics had some special insight into God's character. It turns out that everything points to God. The more we learn about science and humanity and art and nature and batman, the more we are learning about God.
     (I still do feel that math has special insight into who God is - more so that most other disciplines - because I think if God is bound by anything it is logic. I was once asked at a Bible study if there was anything God couldn't do. My reply was "Of course there is. He can't do anything that isn't logically consistent. Meaning, He can't simultaneously do something and not do that same thing." I think logic (and by extension mathematics) is an integral part of His character. I know there are smarter people than me that have thought about this, and I think the idea relates to His nature and His administration, but I don't know.)
   
     So whatever you are doing, if you do it to your fullest, you are glorifying God. I find that relieving.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Finding Your Center (Of Your Pizza)

     People walk up to me all the time and ask "tell me a good math trick, something I can use in my everyday life." No, this really happens!! Well, let me tell you, I have some great ones. I know how to multiply by 9's really quickly, I can tell if a number can be divided by 3 really quickly - lots of great stuff.

     If you are like my wife, you are absolutely horrible at cutting pizza slices. I mean, you might be the worst person in the world at finding the middle of your pizza. What drives me crazy is she will cut across the pizza, clearly not hit the middle of the pizza, and then just keep going like her first cut was a good one! Can you imagine? Then, I am stuck with the task of handing out disproportionately cut pieces of pizza to people. Everyone automatically assumes that I am giving them their slice based on how I perceive their eating habits, based on their weight. That's not fair to me! I am doing that, but I wouldn't be so crass as to symbolize it through pizza sizes. Please!

     I needed to solve this problem in my household before my marriage and friendships came crashing down. I needed geometry.

     You might not be aware of a cool property that all circles have. If you pick a point on a circle, and from that point draw a right angle within the circle, the sides of that angle will intersect the circle at a diameter. Here's what I mean:
     First off, it's important to make sure we know that a diameter passes through the center of a circle. Any other line segment through a circle is called a chord:



What we want is to find the center of any random circle. (Or, really, we just want to be able to cut a bunch of diameters). Start by picking any random point (we'll call it "S" for "start." Or "square." No, wait, that's confusing. "Sircle.") Also, grab a right angle:


If I put the corner of my right angle directly on the edge of the sircle circle, the right angle will intersect the circle at two points (we'll call them A and B):


If I connect points A and B, we have a diameter:



And of course, you can repeat this process one more time to cut another diameter, and this will result in finding the center of your circle:


So, this can work for any random picture of a pizza I pull of the interwebs:

As you can see, the center that was cut in this pizza is actually slightly off. Shame.

Now we can find the center of any pizza, and avoid any awkward moments when having guests over. Ha! A great right angle to use might be the box the pizza came in, but I am sure you can find others as well.

It looks as though I have made your life a little easier by answering a question you have never asked and didn't really care about anyways. You are welcome.

(Hint: this method also works on pies, cakes, waffles and well-made pancakes, but not quiche for some weird reason).

Monday, November 14, 2011

"Doing Math"

     I will often hear students say that they are solving problems without doing any math. An example: I put an equation on the board and asked my students to make a table of points that solve the equation:

2x + y = 12  was the equation.

Some points that solve the equations are (0, 12), (1, 10), (2, 8), (3, 6), (4, 4), etc. There are an infinite number of points that solve the equation.

When I ask my students how they got the points, a lot of them well say something (sheepishly) like "well, I didn't use any math, I could just look at the equation and see it."

When they say "I didn't use any math," what they mean is they didn't write stuff down and do adding/subtracting multiplying/dividing. Like, at no point did they plug in a 5 for x:

2x + y = 12
2(5) + y = 12
10 + y = 12
-10          -10
y = 2

so the point (5, 2) also solves the equation.

The above work they call "math."

     I try to stress that "doing math" isn't actually math. It's arithmetic. The adding/subtracting multiplying/dividing of numbers is simply arithmetic which is just a part of math.
     But mathematics is really just logic. It's logic applied to a very precise, well defined system. Looking at the equations 2x + y = 10 and just "seeing" points is really an application of logic, and that's math.

    Similarly, some students find more points in the equation above by noticing the pattern (every time the x-value increases by 1, the y-value decreases by two in the (x, y) points). They seem to feel that noticing and using a pattern isn't "math." No, it's not "arithmetic," because math is nothing if not lazy people noticing patterns to make their lives easier.

     I feel like this must be a result of poor teaching, from a young age. We call arithmetic "math" and never really teach straight, plain logic. It's frustrating, and something that CS Lewis mentions often throughout his writings. Teaching logic is challenging, and arithmetic can be easily grasped at a young age, so i understand its emphasis, but this is a huge disservice to our children.

Solving a System Through Combination

Systems of equations is a fundamental algebra topic. If 2x + 3y = 4 and 6x - 9y = 48, what do x and y equal?

One method of solving this system is through combination (also called elimination, and also called addition).

2x + 3y = 4
6x - 9y = 8

multiply the top equation by -3

-3(2x + 3y) = -3(4)
    6x - 10y = 50

which gives

-6x - 9y = -12
6x - 10y = 50

the point of doing this is to have two variables that have opposite coefficients (in this case the x's).

We can then add up the equations


   -6x - 9y = -12
+  6x - 10y = 50
         -19y = 38

if we divide both sides by -19, we get

         -19y = 38
          -19    -19

            y = -2

if y= -2, we can plug that back in to either of the original equations to find x

   2x + 3y = 4
   2x + 3(-2) = 4
   2x + (-6) = 4
           +6   +6
   2x = 10
   2x = 10
    2       2
    x = 5

so x = 5 and y = -2. The point (5, -2) solves both equations.

But, let's look at that step where we added up the equations again:


   -6x - 9y = -12
+  6x - 10y = 50
         -19y = 38

     I always, after a couple days of doing this method, ask my students "did anyone wonder why we are allowed to add up equations? We've never done that before. Was there a moment where anyone thought if that was even allowed?"  Usually one or two students admit that they briefly had that question (and it's usually a girl, truth be told).

     Why is that allowed? It's kind of weird! Well, first things first, we aren't actually adding up the equations, we are adding up expressions, the two halves of the equations (6x - 10 is an expression, 50 is an expression, and they were equal to each other).

     The Addition Property of Equality states that if a = b, then a + c = b + c, which basically means you can add whatever you want to both sides of an equation.

Well, let's look at that new equation we made by multiplying by -3:

 -6x - 9y = -12.



I ask my students, can I add 4 to both sides?

-6x - 9y = -12
           +4      +4      of course I can (some students don't think I can, in fact, because there was no -4
                                anywhere in the equation. I try to clear this up.)

so, could I add 6x, if I wanted to?

-6x - 9y = -12
           +6x    +6x    yes, again, I could do that.

I could also add 3 to one side and 2 + 1 to the other, right?

-6x - 9y = -12
          +3     + (2 + 1)     as long as I am adding the same thing to both sides, then I can do anything.

Well, look at that other equation 6x - 10y = 50. The equals sign means that the two sides are the same. 6x - 10y is the same as 50. So really, if I want to add 50 to both sides of the first equation:

-6x - 9y = -12
          +50    +50
I could change that first "50" into 6x - 10y (because they're the same thing! 6x - 10y = 50)


-6x - 9y = -12
+(6x - 10y)   + 50


and at this point, it is easier to just add up the equations and save some writing.


   -6x - 9y = -12
+  6x - 10y = 50
         -19y = 38

and then solve from there.

     Does anyone care about this? Again, I would have maybe one or two per class who were interested. But understanding little things like this can really pay off in the long run. I was never taught this, not remotely. I was in a van driving to a frisbee tournament talking about math with a couple of friends, and some made the distinction between adding equations and adding expressions. I took some time to put the rest together and a lot of other things in math started to fall into place. I want to give this opportunity to my students as well. So I try to teach my students why.




Tuesday, November 8, 2011

When 1 + 1 Doesn't Equal 2

My bike Shadowfax. He's so fast he's blurry.
     I used to go for bike rides along the Willamette River in Eugene at night. When I was in college and wanted to clear my head, get some exercise or mull over a math proof (really), I'd hop on Shadowfax and do the loop. Sometimes at 2:00 or 3:00am if I was up.
     One time I stopped at one of my favorite spots - one of the bridges over the river. I was looking at the moon/street light hitting the water and two guys rode up and stopped to chat. They may have been homeless, they may have been drunk, and they may have been on drugs - sometimes it's hard to tell. One of them asked what I do. I told him I was a math major at the U of O. He scoffed. Mathematicians. Let me tell you about mathematicians. One plus one does not equal two, one plus one equals one plus one and two equals two. He went on in this line of reasoning for a while, talking about all kinds of related topics. He honestly seemed like one of those bums who has all the answers to the questions no one is asking.
     Shadowfax and I rode on, and I didn't give it much thought until later. Until now, really. I've talked about how equality means that one side is the same as the other, (or that each side of an equation is the exact same as the other). 2x + 3 = 5 when x = 1 and 1 + 1 = 2.
     Equality only exists in the abstract, though. 1 + 1 = 2 only if you are dealing with a concept, like "numbers" or "apples." By that I mean, if I were to take a literal, tangible apple and then put another apple right next to it, those two apples are not the exact same. They weigh different and look different and one of them has more worms. No two apples are exactly the same. 1 + 1 does not equal 2, because I don't have two of the exact same thing.
     But If I think of those two apples as the generic, abstract label of "apple," then I go from having one apple to two apples when I add them up. I can "add" the two apples because I can label them as "the same," and this abstract label lets me deal with equality. Does this make any sense? One plus one does not equal two, unless the two things are completely identical. One plus one equals one plus one, when the two things are not identical.
     What does this mean? It means that in the real, tangible world, equality doesn't exist. No two things are exactly the same out here.
     Well, what does that mean. Equality from a social perspective means that all people are given the same opportunity, regardless of gender, race, religion, etc. Is that even possible? No, it's not, because no two people, cultures, backgrounds or beliefs are the same. Equality can't happen in the real world. Maybe that notion is obvious, I don't know. But it's undeniably true.
     So should we even pursue social equality? There will always be rich and poor, healthy and sick, feeble and strong. Can we really grant Equal Opportunity to people applying for jobs, when one guy comes from a wealthier family than the other? To truly grant equal opportunity we'd need to make everyone go to the same school and come from the same family and be born at the same time. That sounds stupid.
Cara had a photo idea and ran with it.
     When I think about the ideals of social equality, from the vantage point that equality doesn't remotely exist in the real world, I start to think it's misguided. Equality: treat all people the same. No! We don't treat men and women the same, nor should we. I don't have breasts to feed my son. Cara doesn't have muscles to move heavy things (and I mean, like, really really big muscles like mine). Men and women are so clearly not equal that trying to treat them the exact same is absurd. (And for the record, there's little doubt that women are better than men, in my opinion. As a whole, the only thing that they aren't capable of doing as well as men are feats of physical strength and agility, which isn't such a big deal in today's society (we're not running from sabretooth tigers anymore. Yes I am putting parentheses within parentheses.), and they can bear and nurture children. Of course I am going to hold a door open for them!).
     This is all very easy for me to say. I am a white, straight, middle-class, educated, attractive, charming, physically imposing Christian male. Some of those attributes are by choice, some are by chance, some are by birth, and some are fabrications, but the point is I am not a person who is historically oppressed in the United States. It's easy for me to say things like "we don't need to try to treat people equal when they are not equal," because it doesn't tend to impact me negatively. But I recognize that those in power view "not equal" as "inferior" and begin to exploit. I get that, and I think things like Affirmative Action and Equal Opportunity hiring are wonderful things (although I think affirmative action should move towards being based more on socio-economic standing and less reliant on race, but that's for another time). So let me go back a step.

     Equality doesn't exist in the real world, only in the abstract. Fine. But if I am going to apply my purely mathematical logic to the real world, I need to apply it to my abstract world as well. Equality only exists in the abstract, but I still use it. I still write and solve equations as if 2x + 3 equaled 5. In my perfect, ideal, non-real world, equality is real and it is useful. Is it such a stretch to think that the abstract concepts of equality in the real world aren't useless either? Math breaks down when you apply it to physics. It turns into a model of the world and not an absolute law, mostly because we can't ever know everything and have all the necessary data. In the same way, equality breaks down in society, it becomes a goal we should strive for. We can't ever have a perfect society, but we can strive for it in the same way we strive for cleaner energy or faster transportation. Really, as a Christian I am called to be perfect, knowing full well that I never will be. I am called to strive for it, just like as a society we should strive for equality.

     People and groups and individuals and genders are not equal. That is a wonderful, necessary thing. If they were truly all the same, the world would be a simpler, more boring-er, less accomplished place. We shouldn't treat everyone the same, that's a disservice to all of our tremendous differences. We should treat everyone with the same respect and the same regard (at least as far as it is truly deserved), but we shouldn't treat them the same. 1 + 1 doesn't equal 2, thank God.

     (One last, tangentially related indulgence: This is why I love math. I like to take things that it teaches me, logic it has instilled in my brain, and see how it applies to other things. This application tends to shed new light on things for me, things that other people have probably had figured out for a long time. I don't expect other people to do this with mathematics, but I think they should do it with whatever they know and love. And I don't expect my students to need to be able to solve quadratic equations in life, but damn it I wish they were all equipped to at least analyze their world with cold, hard logic. That's all math is, logic applied to a specific, well defined system. A system where 1 + 1 = 2 and that idea leads to a lot of other ideas. How can I convince a 14-year-old with an iphone that this is worth caring about? I don't know. Thanks for reading.)

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Stuff That Happened to Me Today: Building a Deck

     True story: A student of mine approached me at Lane Community College after class. She said "Grant, I have a question. I am building a deck and want to know how I can make sure to get a right angle when I am laying it out." I got excited, and asked her what we had to work with. She had the pile of wood from Jerry's, all cut and ready to go, a tape measure and a chalk line.

     Perfect. Absolutely perfect. This was the most validating thing that had ever happened to me in my math career. In geometry you do what's called "constructions," where all you have is a pencil, straight edge, and compass, and you need to make things and prove things and do things and things. It's fun and challenging and I will do it in my spare time (like, at a boring meeting, or when my wife is telling a story).

     I essentially had a compass and straight edge to make this right angle from a given side. Here's what I tried to explain:

Let's start with a picture I took of their house (well, I copied it off google maps)


Now let's focus on the pertinent part.
We want to make a right angle from point A upwards, and want to find the most accurate way to do that (note: not the easiest way, the most accurate way).



Along the same line as the side of the deck you have plotted, mark a point the same distance away from A on each side. (This is easiest shown with a circle)

Points X1 and X2 are the same distance from
A (6 feet) and lie on the same line as the deck

So we end up with



Having never remotely done this in real life, I can safely recommend using a distance of about 6 to 8 feet from A to X1 and X2.  Now we can use the points X1 and X2 to make a perpendicular to A. 

Whatever that distance from A to X1 is (let's say it's 6 feet), choose a substantially larger distance to measure. I'm going to use 10 feet to make the pictures work, but the longer the better (it really depends on how far out you want your deck to go, but we'll work with this). Draw two circles around X1 and X2, each with the same exact radius (10 feet in this case).


Points X1 and X2 are each the center of a circle with a radius of 10 feet.

You don't need to draw the entire circles, just trace enough to find the point where the two circles intersect above Point A.

Using your chalk line, mark the line from Point A to the intersection above Point A (let's call it Point I... for "interesting") and you have a perpendicular line! It's as accurate as you were.




Anywhere along that line you can put the other corner of your deck. Wasn't that fun!?



There are all kinds of tools and tricks construction workers use to make right angles that I will pretend to know, but given just a tape measure, chalk line and wood we can do it (truth be told, you don't even need the tape measure - a chalk line and a place to start is sufficient).

There are a couple of faster ways, from this point, to finish the rectangle. Maybe for another time.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Self Scrutiny

I have an insecurity that I identified in myself a long time ago, and have been trying to get over: I don't like people seeing me learn something. I don't mind failing in front of people so much, it's the act of seeing me struggle to learn something that bothers me. For example, I have never been wakeboarding, but I absolutely love playing in the water. I've never wakeboarded because my friends had boats and had wakeboarded since they were little and were good at it, and if I, at the old, experienced age of 14, were to get on a board and try to gain a new skill in front of these experienced people, I would be so embarassed to not get up and do a flip on my first try (which I know they were all able to do). So here I am, 25, having never tried to wakeboard because of an insecurity I had when I was young, and now a lack of opportunity.

I learned that this is a very common thing for mathematicians, but I'm sure its for different reasons. Mathematicians throughout history board themselves up in their rooms and don't tell people what they are doing. They come out 6 years later with a simple, elegant proof of something seemingly innocuous (or obviously revolutionary) and everyone goes "huzzah!" Only later do people realize that poor Wolfgang von Genius was trapped in his room failing for years, with pages and pages of worthless scrap.

I want to come out of my room as a competent, finished product. I want people to see me able to wakeboard on my first try. This is why I will write a few blog posts before anyone reads it. Heaven forbid this blog be boring for a while. It's a flaw and an insecurity that I am working to overcome, but find less and less chances to do so.

So, if you want to go wakeboarding, surfing or tap dancing, lemme know.