Dear Sweet Jesus....

So, somehow, I've made it through two tests in pre-calculus. Let's just say that it is unlikely that I will get an "A" in this class, but a "B" is still in the cards. Failing is looking somewhat more remote, but remains a possibility. A review of our test this morning reveals that I have the basic concepts firmly under control, but the details are bedeviling. For example, asked to find "all exact zeros" in a polynomial, I perfectly executed the determination of possible rational zeros, using my new best friend, the TI-86 calculator, selected my zero, and divided the factor into the polynomial. That yielded another polynomial, which I used to solve for "x" by plugging values into the quadratic equation. I got an answer that included a rational and two irrational numbers. Looked good, so I moved on. Only thing is that I reversed the sign of the constant in the second polynomial. You college grads will know what that means. The professor grudgingly gave me one point out of six for the process. Disaster jerked from the jaws of success.

But all that is, as they say, but a distant memory. I will revisit my old friends next week for the Final, but for now, it is on to trigonometric functions, a subject that I have never seen, never been taught, don't understand the concept of, and, which,according to my professor, will be the most difficult part of the course.

Does anybody have a gun?

An Audobon Moment or Life is Short, Brutish, and Hard

Enroute to the chamber of horrors otherwise known as pre-calculus, not-ready for our second test of the session but reconciled with my fate, I happened upon a recently dead pigeon. The carcass lay in a bed of its own feathers, like some sort of modern presentation of pigeon tartare, carefully placed in a location sure to attract maximum attention from the morning promenade of students moving to class from the land of nod.

At first, I took the particular placement and arrangement as some other pre-calculus student's imprecation, voodoo like, about the state of affairs. It is, after all, very unusual to see the random display of the natural world's dark side about the bucolic, but urban, campus. The only dogs I see are fellow students, as in: "what's up, Dog", and we are graced with a significant feline presence, constantly purring and rubbing, but with the usual disdain at the end. There are some of the porcine persuasion, a few of whom are clearly feral, and I have encountered a snake or two. But real live nature? More rarely seen even than students of my age, who mostly move around at night or on the edge of the campus, seeking cover at every opportunity.

Loitering at the scene, unwilling to enter the classroom and endure the blather of other, even more confused students, I took station a short distance away and tried to clear my mind, in the hope that some kind of enlightenment about the use of the natural log in solving equations of x would enter my being and become a central part of my essence.

Alas, the entrance to Nirvana remained closed, and I turned my attention to the outer world. In a random movement of eyes and head, unlike the instinct of my simian brothers, with whom I grow closer with every passing class, I looked up. There, perched on a tree providing cover to the belvedere, sat a gi-normous hawk! Apart from being buzzed by furious mocking birds, it sat absolutely still, with its raptorian visage focused intently on the breakfast that had been interrupted. One might even say that it looked a little peeved.

All became clear. A part of nature not normally seen, the feeding ritual, had taken place in our small nature preserve. A creature near the top of the food chain had dined on a member of some lower level in the hierarchy of existence and needs. A raptor had killed a pigeon. Life continued, each with its role fulfilled.

With that powerful thought, I marched into the classroom and sat down for my test.

Whoa, Nellie!

Let's just stipulate for the record that taking a 4 hour class, during summer school, is not for the faint-hearted. Of course, I understood the challenge, objectively, and comforted my self with confident little murmurs of encouragement, saying affirmations to improve my self-confidence and mental attitude, ALL BEFORE PRE-CALCULUS STARTED! What a boob I was, thinking that I could motivate my way through a class that our professor calls a "gatekeeper class" for all us so-called science majors. I would prefer, now, to use a more accurate term to describe the class - we are being culled, like so many excess yearling bucks in the ever growing herd of domestic deer. Yes, the herd has thinned noticeably in the first two weeks, and the survivors look like those brave souls enduring Hell Week in a SEAL training program. We are gaunt, confused, exhausted, and running on fumes. (There are, naturally, some savants who are gliding through this exercise on their way to double majors in Bio-Chemistry and Genetics, but, like God, we mortals are not aware of their earthly existence. Why are they in this course but for a little practice and to blow the curve for the rest of us).

The material is not difficult to understand, but the detail and complexity are killers. When the old pressure starts to boil, this tired brain loses what little flexibility it possesses, and stupid, careless errors ensue.

This is a fair test for the next level, dammit!

The Hard Stuff

Up to this point in the return to college, the academic work has consisted of general requirements or reviews of material to refresh my aged brain about the intricacies of mathematics. Less understood at the outset, but now perceived as just as important, was the social work, or the development of a college "mindset", which I would describe as 1) establishing a comfort level in this new environment, 2) acquiring the ability to understand what each professor wants from the best students, and 3) developing a strong confidence in my abilities as a student.

The development of these two aspects has gotten me to this point. I have a good GPA. I have demonstrated to the administration and myself that I can handle the "introductory" level of the work. I can never be a "student", in the traditional sense, but I can be a part of the college world. I belong.

Summer II will test my ability to handle a slightly higher level of mathematics (pre-calculus). I am trying to excel in a course that carries 4 hours of credit (which means the workload and class time is heavy). When I discussed taking this class in summer, a high level math faculty member very casually mentioned to me that, for people in my major, this class in summer should not be a major challenge.

So, this is the next test. If this class turns out to be more than I can handle, then maybe I should not be in the major that I have committed myself to. Failure modifies the goals, substantially.

Failure is not an option.

Perturbations in the Field

Cross posted on my other blog.

Momentum

There really hasn't been to much to post about in the last few weeks, at least in regard to the college life. The Maymester (firehose) session.....well, enough about that. Lots and lots of writing, which served a very useful purpose, but I don't think we'll try that again.

Summer School is a blast. One course; sure, it's a lot of classroom time, but the professor and my fellow students all seem to want to be there, it feels a lot less formal, and the learning is just as good. Sometimes it's hard to stay on top of the work, but the learning skills are restored, and I can catch up if I suffer a lazy day or two.

What's neat is seeing all the recent high school graduates that are cycling through the two day orientations, with parents and younger siblings along for the ride. I can't look at them, all young and wide-eyed, trying to appear cool - but still drinking it all in, without wondering what they are thinking.

Yes, it's a little slow around the campus, but we need the rest before we climb back on the beast in August.

Maybe This Explains It........

Maybe this article can explain the thought processes of the brave admissions committee that agreed to let me re-enter the world of academe: admissions in favor of males admissions.

An excerpt:

Many colleges heavily favor male applicants to prevent women from dominating their student bodies, a U.S. News & World Report study of admissions data of 1,400 colleges shows. Women tend to be better students than men in terms of grades and the kinds of extra-curricular activities, like theater or music classes, that admissions officers look out for. If the same proportion of male applicants were accepted as female applicants, men would become a small minority at some small liberal-arts colleges.

The small liberal-arts colleges in between, however, have to heavily tip the scales in favor of male applicants in order to maintain a gender balance. For example, in 1997, William and Mary’s admissions rates for men and women were close: 51% for men and 43% for women in 1997. Following a steep rise in applications, the gap had widened last year to a 44% rate for male applicants versus 26% for women. Meanwhile, the proportion of female undergraduates has fallen to 54% last year, from 60% a decade ago.

Then there is this nugget of advice:

Steve Goodman, an independent college counselor, advises male students to emphasize their maleness in applications by submitting pictures or playing up the sports they play.

If I had to compete with either of these students, I might still be putzing around in my unfulfilling job.....

In Memory of My Mother

I do not think of you lying in the wet clay
Of a Monaghan graveyard; I see
You walking down a lane among the poplars
On your way to the station, or happily Going to second Mass on a summer Sunday--
You meet me and you say:
'Don't forget to see about the cattle--'
Among your earthiest words the angels stray.
And I think of you walking along a headland
Of green oats in June,
So full of repose, so rich with life--
And I see us meeting at the end of a town on a fair day by accident,
after the bargains are all made and we can walk
Together through the shops and stalls and markets
Free in the oriental streets of thought.
O you are not lying in the wet clay,
For it is harvest evening now and we
Are piling up the ricks against the moonlight
And you smile up at us -- eternally.

By: Patrick Kavanagh

Lepanto - Watershed Event

In our history class last semester, Professor P... carefully stressed the importance of watershed events in history; literally events that changed the course of history. Today, in the second half of the sequence, Professor G.... casually remarked that the Battle of Lepanto was the watershed event in European history. Now, to me, that's a pretty bold statement about the sweep of history and the tides of men's affairs. But consider the facts:

1. Islam was the controlling force for religion and government in the world, possibly excepting China, which was very self contained. It provided a unifying force that tied cultures, languages, races, and mercantile goods to a huge swath of the global population.
2. The Islamic empires, either the Caliphate, or its heirs, the Ottomans, Mughals, and Safavids controlled the crossroads of the world, and thus controlled access to the riches of the Orient (spices, precious stones, etc) demanded by the growing populations of Europe. The ability to control that access caused enormous wealth to flow into the coffers of those empires.
3. The European nations, forced to travel long distances for goods from the Orient, turned to the seas as an alternative to overland travel. In looking for the Orient, they unintentionally discovered the Americas. The wealth, in raw materials, of the Americas gave the Europeans equal footing with the Islamic empires in terms of purchasing and spending power.
4. Had the Ottoman Turks defeated the European coalition (see, they used to be able to fight together, at least in the short term), the Turks would have been able to control the Mediterranean. From there, they would have been able to move into the Atlantic. Had that happened, argues Professor G..., the Islamic navies would have been in a position to interfere, if not control the Atlantic trade routes.

As Professor G.... said, imagine a South America where the predominant language is Turkish, or Arabic. One battle, in 1571, involving at most 75,000 men, changed, possibly, the entire history of the world. At least for 500 years.

Pretty neat stuff.

Facebook for Old Farts

Please click on the link above for some background.....

Only last weekend, I was.... not ridiculed, that's too strong, instead let's say... given an incredulous look by a contemporary and his college-aged son upon their learning that I am a card-carrying member of Facebook. To the father, it may have crossed his mind that I am engaged in either a) lecherous behavior, or b) trying a mite too hard to be a college student. To the son, I probably come across as a hopeless nerd, wishing to be something I clearly am not, nor ever will be. Neither is exactly true, but I do feel slightly uncomfortable at the notion of imposing my desire for friendship on a total stranger who happens to be, say, 19. I mean, just the thought of such a request creates, in the back of my mind, images of my face on Dateline, as Chris Hanson interrogates me. But, no matter. The journey is the destination, and I will observe, as closely as I can, the aspects of the college community that were missed in the fog of my earlier career.

I mean, no one looks askance when I pull out my AARP card.....it's just another group, isn't it?