Your comic relief for the day :-).
Even though I’d love to say I use for everything, I actually only use it for my grad school assignments. I don’t use it for all my worksheets and assessments. There is a teacher in our math department who does use
for everything, but it’s not me.
That being said, Microsoft has made a significant upgrade to its equation editor with the release of Office 2007 (I know, pretty stale news–but my school just upgraded this past year) and lovers will love it if they haven’t tried it yet. The old Microsoft Equation 3.0 which shipped with earlier Office products had a few shortcuts, but it was still pretty hard to type equations without using the toolbar. Color-coding was problematic, and equation objects didn’t respond to font-size changes or other formatting properties. Animations in powerpoint were also difficult.
The new equation editor is much better for the following reasons:
1. The shortcuts are amazing, and most simple commands work. For a complete list of shortcuts go here for a great pdf cheat sheet. You can even add your own custom commands if you go into your options to Proofing > AutoCorrect Options and click on the “Math AutoCorrect” tab. Also, pressing Alt+= will immediately launch the editor. So inserting an equation is fast and you never need to leave the keyboard.
2. Most calculator-style syntax is accepted as well. So typing 3^x [space] / 4^y [space][space] results in , without any extra effort. Tapping the spacebar will automatically convert your calculator syntax into pretty display math. For a more complicated example, consider this:
produced by typing “lim_(n\to\infty)[space]((2n+1)(3n-2))/(4n^2)[space]=3/2[space].”
3. As hinted above, the new equation editor responds to all the normal font formatting options in Microsoft Office. You can color your formulas, you can change the font size, and you can apply any other text effect like shadow/glow/outline/etc. [edit: Though you can change all those things, no, you cannot change the font face. There are a limited number of fonts available for use, and the only one I know of is the default, Cambria Math–if you know of another one, please share!]
4. In powerpoint, animations are quite a bit easier, since you can do all the equations in-line as part of the text, rather than juggling scads of different text and equation objects.
For more on Microsoft’s new Equation Editor, please check out my more recent post here!
Today at our school we had to have the obligatory π day celebrations. Here are the ways we observed π at RM:
One more thing you can still do, if you haven’t yet observed π day:
Also, on an unrelated note, today’s Google logo is great. If you’re interested in the mathematics of origami, you probably know who Robert Lang is. Today’s Google logo is an origami piece created by Lang in honor of the late Akira Yoshizawa, world famous origami artist.
This math website has a great idea: If we can read bedtime stories to our children each night to increase literacy, shouldn’t also be reasonable to do a math problem before bed each night too? My sister and brother-in-law already do this, and it’s great fun. But this website does all the work for you and you can even sign up for a daily problem in your email. All of this is thanks to website creator, Laura Bilodeau Overdeck. Check it out here.
When my little daughter is a bit older, I’ll definitely be giving her some daily math problems.
[Another guest blog entry by Dr. Gene Chase.]
You’ve heard the old joke.
Teacher: Pi R Squared.
Student: No, teacher, pie are round. Cornbread are square.
The purpose of this Pi Day note two days early is to explain why is indeed a square.
The customary definition of is the ratio of a circle’s circumference to its diameter. But mathematicians are accustomed to defining things in two different ways, and then showing that the two ways are in fact equivalent. Here’s a first example appropriate for my story.
How do we define the function for complex numbers z? First we define
for integers
and b. Then we extend it to rationals, and finally, by requiring that the resulting function be continuous, to reals. As it happens, the resulting function is infinitely differentiable. In fact, if we choose a to be e, the
not only is
infinitely differentiable, but it is its own derivative. Can we extend the definition of
to complex numbers z? Yes, in an infinite number of ways, but if we want the reasonable assumption that it too is infinitely differentiable, then there is only one way to extend
.
That’s amazing!
The resulting function obeys all the expected laws of exponents. And we can prove that the function when restricted to reals has an inverse for the entire real number line. So define a new function
which is the inverse of
. Then we can prove that
obeys all of the laws of logarithms.
Or we could proceed in the reverse order instead. Define . It has an inverse, which we can call
, and then we can define
as
. We can prove that
is the above-mentioned limit, and when this new definition of
is restricted to the appropriate rationals or reals or integers, we have the same function of two variables a and b as above.
can also be extended to the complex domain, except the result is no longer a function, or rather it is a function from complex numbers to sets of complex numbers. All the numbers in a given set differ by some integer multiple of
[1] .
With either definition of , Euler’s famous formula can be proven:
[2] .
But where’s the circle that gives rise to the in [1] and [2]? The answer is easy to see if we establish another formula to which Euler’s name is also attached:
[3] .
Thus complex numbers unify two of the most frequent natural phenomena: exponential growth and periodic motion. In the complex plane, the exponential is a circular function.
That’s amazing!
Here’s a second example appropriate for my story. Define the function on integers in the usual way. Now ask whether there is a way to extend it to (some of) the complex plane, so that we can take the factorial of a complex number. There is, and as with
, there is only one way if we require that the resulting function be infinitely differentiable. The resulting function is (almost) called Gamma, written
. I say almost, because the function that we want has the following property:
[4]
Obviously, we’d like to stay away from negative values on the real line, where the meaning of (–5)! is not at all clear. In fact, if we stay in the half-plane where complex numbers have a positive real part, we can define by an integral which agrees with the factorial function for positive integer values of z:
[5] .
If we evaluate we discover that the result is
.
In other words,
[6] .
Pi are indeed square.
That’s amazing!
I suspect that the arises because there is an exponential function in the definition of
, but in other problems involving
it’s harder to find where the
comes from. Euler’s Basel problem is a good case in point. There are many good proofs that
One proof uses trigonometric series, so you shouldn’t be surprised that shows up there too.
comes up in probability in Buffon’s needle problem because the needle is free to land with any angle from north.
Can you think of a place where occurs, but you cannot find the circle?
George Lakoff and Rafael Núñez have written a controversial book that bolsters the argument that you won’t find any such examples: Where Mathematics Comes From. But Platonist that I am, I maintain that there might be such places.
[Another guest column from Dr. Gene Chase.]
Suppose two equally weighted cars collide in a head-on collision, each traveling at 50 miles per hour. Do you think that the impact for one car will be more severe on the car and driver than the impact of that car’s hitting a brick wall?
To be fair, we have to assume that neither the cars nor the wall compress at all. If the wall is as soft as a pillow, I’ll take the wall every time.
Marilyn vos Savant’s recent column in Parade Magazine says that hitting an oncoming car in that way is no more severe than hitting a solid wall. They both stop dead, whether the wall or the other car causes it.
Each experiences a momentum change that is the same as if they hit a wall, not twice as much. That’s clear when I think of it now, using the law that momentum = impulse (that is, mass * velocity = force * time) but I’ve been mistaken when I’ve only thought about it casually, thinking it must be a 100 mph impact..
If a bike hits a car head-on, the situation is different, because the “bike-car” combination will continue to move in the direction of the car, so my intuition is correct in that case: The bike driver fares worse than the car driver. Comments at Marilyn vos Savant’s blog say as much.
I used to think that car bumpers that collapse at the slightest impact were poorly made. In fact, if momentum is constant, extending the time of impact will decrease the force, to keep force * time constant.
Give me “cheap” bumpers and a wall made of pillows every time.
It stands for “Science, Engineering, Technology, and Mathematics” and it’s a buzz word in education circles these days. This is especially true because programs advancing the cause of STEM may be eligible for federal funds (through the National Science Foundation). I benefit directly from such programs, since the masters degree I am currently getting is fully funded because I am a ‘secondary STEM teacher.’
The term is abused, since everyone wants to call what they’re doing “STEM.”
NCTM President J. Michael Shaughnessy hits the nail on the head in this great article (I just posted one of his articles the other day). I’ve included a few snippets here, but I encourage you to read the whole article.
.
STEM: An Advocacy Position, Not a Content Area
by NCTM President J. Michael Shaughnessy
More and more these days, in educational meetings, conferences, and policy arenas, the talk is that “it’s all about STEM.” STEM is an acronym for science, technology, engineering, and mathematics, and it has rapidly become a driving force in educational policy and funding decisions in the United States. I find both strengths and problems with the current STEM discussions across our professional communities.
He provides a balanced critique of the STEM label as it’s used nationally and locally.
As a political advocacy position, STEM—that is, STEM funding and STEM initiatives—is of critical importance to the health of the mathematics and science education communities. In this arena, STEM makes perfect sense. It is when the term “STEM” filters down to states, districts, schools, and pre-K–12 teaching that the waters can become muddled.
The Problem with STEM
The translation from national policy to the rhetoric of state and local politics can give rise to generalist discussions about STEM programs and STEM schools, which in turn can lead to the dilution of important mathematics content. Terms such as “STEM program,” “STEM school,” and “STEM curriculum” are proliferating in our educational jargon. The acronym is shifting from a noun that represents four crucial content areas to an adjective that is used to describe just about anything and everything that anyone is doing related to science or mathematics. STEM is becoming the word du jour, because that’s where the funding lies. One can almost hear the cry in the halls of state departments of education, school district offices, principals’ offices, and school corridors: “We do STEM!” But what exactly does that mean? What are the specific innovations in the teaching and learning of mathematics and science that states, districts, and schools are implementing when they refer to themselves as “STEM intensive” or as having “a STEM program?” We should ask our leaders exactly what they mean when they use the word “STEM.” We deserve more than a generalist blanket response that represents a grouping for funding without specific content or pedagogical substance.
And of course, with an obvious bias (with which I agree!), Shaughnessy goes on to say,
With all due respect to our colleagues in the other disciplines, we assert that the letters in STEM are not all of equal importance in the pre-K–12 education of our students. Mathematics is paramount, mathematics is primal, mathematics is the most important STEM discipline.
Read the whole article here.
.
I really enjoy reading J. Michael Shaughnessy’s column. He’s the president of the NCTM and always has interesting, timely things to say about math and math education. Here’s an excerpt from this week’s column, where he recounts his recent conversation with Senator Al Franken (D-Minn) as he eagerly shared a proof with President Shaughnessy. Go check it out!
Seen Any Good Proofs Lately? Raising the Social Currency of Mathematics
We all probably have had a friend or acquaintance, or even a perfect stranger, raving about a book she has just read, or a movie he has recently seen, and then saying, “Oh, you must read this book!” or, “You must see that film!” But how many of us have had this kind of experience in a social occasion where the person exclaimed, “Oh, you must see this proof!” So it was indeed refreshing to meet someone who really likes mathematics, as I did several weeks ago, in what might seem like a very unlikely setting—the Hart Senate Office Building in Washington, D.C.
On Wednesday mornings when Congress is in session, Senator Al Franken (D-Minn.) holds a breakfast gathering in his office for his constituents. Visitors to the breakfast consist primarily of people from Minnesota, but I received an invitation from a mathematics teacher who is spending the year working on the senator’s staff. A famous hearty porridge is served up at these breakfasts, and once guests have begun to circulate, Senator Franken drops in and greets everyone. I had been misinformed and thought that the Senator had been a mathematics major in college. When I asked him about this, he said that the rumor was false, but he agreed that his good grades in math had probably helped him get admitted to college.
After breakfast, the visitors were escorted to a terrace area in the hallway outside the office, where the senator spoke for a few minutes about events being debated in Congress and answered questions. Guests then lined up to have their pictures taken with the senator. I was at the end of the line, and as I shook his hand and introduced myself as the president of NCTM, he said, “Let me show you my geometric proof of the Pythagorean theorem!” Senator Franken then proceeded to grab scratch paper and a pen from one of his staffers and plopped down cross-legged on the hallway carpet. As I sat next to him, he began to sketch out his proof. He explained what he was doing, and why it worked, and I paraphrased each move he made so that it was clear to both of us how he was thinking and what he was doing.
Hat tip to Hackaday for this one. It turns out that a nanosecond is the time it takes light to travel 11.8 inches. A very handy rule of thumb to have around as you explain large distances and small times.
Here are two blog posts I saw a few weeks ago. I’ve been following the comments with great interest, and the conversations have been fruitful. You should go check them out and join the conversation!