This summer I attended PROMYS (Program in Mathematics for Young Scientists) at Boston University. The program places focus on number theory, and for many students it is their first exposure to pure mathematics. Every morning, the entire program attends the number theory lecture, taught by either Prof. Glenn Stevens or Prof. Henry Cohn. First-year students typically put most of their effort into the number theory problem set, whereas second-year students participate in advanced seminars. This year, the advanced seminars were Galois Theory and Graph Theory. Interestingly, the problem sets given each day are three days ahead of the lecture, and it is firmly emphasized that students should not use the internet when p-setting (a term refering to working on your problem set, and one that I have grown attached to). We are then able to more purely explore fundamental concepts, perhaps reproducing the processes that brilliant mathematicians went through to derive theorems and axioms.
For me, PROMYS was a surprising experience because it was the first time I dealt with rigorous mathematics. In the first week, we began by constructing an "inventory" for the set of integers. This is a collection of axioms that describe the integers, distinguish them from other sets such as the real numbers or Gaussian integers, and are needed to prove theorems about integers. Examples of such axioms are the Distributive Property, existence of a zero element, and the Well Ordering Principle. I found it so difficult to come up with axioms for my inventory because I have been dealing with integers since primary school. How am I supposed to know the characteristics that are unique to integers? My peers and and I had discovered that we had taken for granted many concepts that seemed to need no explaining because we had been working with them for years. An especially humorous instance of this was on the midterm. A section on the test required absolute rigor, meaning you have to cite all axioms you use and prove any theorems that are not given. There was a certain problem that gave us trouble: Prove there exist no integers between 0 and 1. This may seem trivial, but almost all first-years were baffled, me included, when we received our test booklets to find a score of 5/12. The fatal mistake we had collectively made was forgetting to prove 0 < 1. Only 1 student in the program earned full points.
When I first arrived at PROMYS I found it very difficult to make friends. Everyone seemed to have taken advanced pure math courses, qualified for olympiads, attended other prestigious math camps, or were simply much smarter than me. Collaboration on p-sets is highly emphasized but after the first week I pretty much barricaded myself in my room to work on math. I told myself that this was because I didn't want other people spoiling things for me. I wanted to come across novel insights on my own. Although this might have been true in some sense, it was more the case that I was afraid that people would judge me when they discovered something and I had to keep asking questions because I didn't understand. By the fourth week, I had begun counting down the days until the end of the program, which would mark my return to the place and people I was accustomed to. But I eventually found the group of people I fit in with. For those last two weeks, we went to meals, studied for finals, and attended minicourses together. On the day of departure, as the ranks of the program began to slowly dwindle away, I was surprised to find myself tearing up while hugging and saying goodbyes to friends as they left. It is undoubtable that the mathematics at PROMYS is amazing, but the community there is its most valuable aspect. I discovered that the math community, with some exceptions, is not one that casts judgment upon you when you struggle with a concept. Instead, it is one that welcomes everyone who is passionate about learning and shares that certain indescribable characteristic everyone interested in STEM seems to possess.
Each student is assigned a counselor. The purpose of the counselors is to aid students in learning the material and solving their problem sets, but never explicitely providing solutions. They are all extremely skilled in advanced mathematics and teaching others. During my six weeks at PROMYS, I interviewed several counselors, hoping to gain insight on math beyond college and other related topics.
The counselors I intereviewed are:
I think there is very little correlation. In fact, there might be negative correlation. The reason being is that I think if you do a lot of competition math, you gain the impression that you're very good at math. And so I guess I'm speaking for myself. But once I got into college, I realized that there are a lot of people who had much great, much greater exposure to college math than I had, and I thought I had a good amount, because I went to PROMYS for three years, and I felt like a lot of people who went to PROMYS before me, you know, excel very well in terms of math. But I went there and I was, I suddenly felt very behind. And a lot of these people had many, many years of just like, I don't know, like studying group theory or studying, linear algebra before me. Like even some high schools offer these classes at their high school, it's just like, if you've already taken these classes before, how am I supposed to compete with that? And I think competition math teaches you a lot of math, but it is not the same kind of skill set as pure math in a lot of ways. I think there's some intersection perhaps but I think generally, the most important thing of pure math is is language which is something that, like Glenn says you want, you want to express a certain idea, and so you try to, like formulate the proper definitions and the proper language in order to express that idea. And then you develop the idea very abstractly from the ground up. Whereas in competition math, you have these tools in place already. So you're not generating anything new, but you're applying like that, that the novelty in competition math is you're taking these ideas and trying to apply it. You're trying to combine them in a more creative way. And so there's a small subtlety there, but it's very profoundly different, like they're very fundamentally different.
And I think, for example, like the way of thinking for competition, math, maybe more in line with, say, I don't know, like computer science or something, but you have these algorithms in place, and you're aware of these algorithms. And the question is not how can I construct a new meaning, like, research, of course, exists in these areas, but especially within the college classroom setting, it's not like construct these new things, but rather, okay, I've learned this algorithm now, how can I apply it to these problems in very unique ways? So yeah, I think actually, a lot of my competition friends end up not staying in pure math. And the people who do stay in pure math are the ones who, the vast majority of them are the ones who had a lot of more pure math experience when they were in high school, which makes sense, like if you studied a lot of a certain subject in high school, then you're bound to study it more in college. It's just that I think competition math should not be equated to pure math. And so, if you see them as two different subjects it makes complete sense. And a lot of people like, they think that it's like, the same thing. Or me, I thought it was the same thing, and then I, you know, I went in with this idea that I could, just, you know, do well, and then it didn't turn out that way.
I guess the most memorable time was after freshman year. So at the end of my freshman year, I got kicked out of college because of COVID, or like we all got kicked out of not just I got singularly kicked out of college. We all were forced to move off campus because of COVID. And during COVID, I decided to take a break from particularly math, or it wasn't even particularly math. I just wanted to explore everything I was interested in to see whether or not I really wanted to do math in the first place, because I felt like in my freshman year I'd taken a lot of these, required classes that are needed to take other more advanced classes. Is in, in the STEM area. So I took, , you know, the intro statistics series, the intro computer science sequence. Took , you know, the intro, , the math class that freshman people take. And I don't know, I didn't feel very particularly attached to any of them, whereas, a lot of my friends were like, Oh, this class is, extremely interesting when I want to, continue pursuing this or Oh, I've already found a lab to do research, alongside the topic of this class and I didn't feel the same conviction towards anything. So I was like, Okay, we're in this pandemic right now. I don't really want to take online classes. A lot of classes I want to take, I don't think would translate well into an online setting. for example, I was interested in exploring interested in, exploring music, music. Like, online classes for music is just I think it's terrible, that's stupid. And so I decided to take a gap year and a legal absence and just explore everything that I wanted to do. And this was very refreshing. at the end of the day, I I kept close track of my time with the philosophy that Okay, I would not give myself any super hard of responsibilities, but I would just explore. I would just do what I want to do, and I keep track of my time. So I had this whole spreadsheet, and I would keep track of my time what I did, every 30 minutes of the day, and then this is just, very, just very clear and very raw data of what I want to do. And my belief was that once I looked at the spreadsheet and I saw what I invested my time in the most, that's the thing that I should be doing, because that's the thing I'm inclined to do, and very shockingly, or maybe not shockingly at that time, math was definitely not up in that list, and it was a lot of non stem stuff, and that got me very confused for a very long time. So then when I came back sophomore year, I decided to take a lot of these classes, and these humanities fields, and some of the classes kind of let me down, but a lot of them were very, very good and, you know, very thought provoking. And I was engaging in these classes a lot more than I was doing the math classes I was taking, just with all my requirements, and so I was very seriously thinking about away putting math altogether, once I got into my sophomore year.
But I think the big turning point for me was actually coming back to PROMYS as a counselor, because after talking with some people here, I realized that maybe my frustration with math was not because I was disengaged with it, but because I didn't see the bigger, the greater vision of why to study math. I guess when you're taking math there so many prerequisites that you need to fulfill in order to get to classes that are interesting. All the undergrad classes you take are these classes so you can understand these graduate level classes, and do these graduate level classes so you're able to understand I don't know, these advanced grad topics courses. And then from there you can choose your research topic and go forward. This is not the same for biology. For biology, you can take an intro class and find a question that interests you, and you can join a research lab, which many people do, and they just work on lab all of their undergrad and you know what the problems are, and you know what the motivation is. For math, this is very obscure. You spend a lot of time in order to even understand what the big research questions are in your field. So I just didn't see that big picture. But I think the timing was just really right, because I learned enough math to kind of understand the bigger picture at a very high level. So it was very intriguing to me. And through talking with other counselors, going to counsel seminars and stuff, I realized I was able to see, oh, this is why these things are so important. This is why this subject is one you teach such early on in your curriculum. Galois theory was so important. It seemed so stupid to me. I thought it had no application, it's just so random. But in fact, it's one of the most fundamental things that comes up in many areas of math. And just seeing this kind of motivation for all these things was greater motivation. And now I have ,now I know, where I'm going, moving forward. Now I have something I want I want to reach, and some topic I want to study.I think that really shifted my perspective on math. I still have qualms now of whether or not I should stay in STEM or pure math. You know, the job prospects are pretty low. I've done this actual math research once, and it was pretty difficult for me. And so I'm still not convinced that math academia is the right space for me. But at the time being, it's the thing that I enjoy very much, and so I'm sticking with it.
So I guess I did math research in PROMYS for two years, and that was back then, I didn't know anything, so it was a bit difficult to make any progress. But I think thinking about questions that you know, no one has really, you know, no one really knows the answers to, was an extremely cool and extremely novel thing. At the same time, I knew that the advisors, right, the people who proposed the projects, already had an outline in mind, and so we were just trying to chase that idea. And so it felt both very novel, but at the same time very just we're basically just doing someone else's work that they already kind of know what to do, but they're just letting students do it, which I think is a great, great thing, but it wasn't all you know, all shining stars or whatever. I did math research at a REU, a research experience for undergrads program last year. I worked with one other person who actually went to PROMYS in 2019 and 2020. Yeah, I was working with him. And then our mentors, they proposed this project, and they build it as you know, being accessible, and undergrads would be able to understand it. And I had taken several grad courses at a time to say, okay, this should be manageable, but then, yeah, it was just hard swinging out the gate, you know, very, very deep into the details, I guess, yeah, and I personally found it pretty hard to follow along, let alone contribute any ideas on my own. But it gave me a taste of what actual math research would look like. I think maybe the project wasn't the best fit for me . I wasn't prepared for it enough. But, yeah, I'm still trying to think about my experience more. And I guess I'm still working on the project, so I'm still very frustrated by it, but yeah, I think that the TLDR is I was not prepared for the project, and I'm still trying to prepare for it right now, trying to gain, not only the necessary background, but the necessary intuition to move forward. But I think if you're working on a project, and you have this kind of intuition, and this kind of you see a problem, and you don't really know what to do, but you have this gut feeling of what things should look and how things should arise, then it becomes very interesting. And this was, there's one point in the project where I was doing this smaller problem, and I did get this feeling, and it was very, very satisfying. Either you keep doing it and your gut feeling is right and things turned out the way I expected, in this really nice way, or things don't turn out the way that that you expect, which is very frustrating. At the same time, then there's something interesting going on here.
But at least my impression in math, at least, the things I study in classes, slash this project, is that a lot of math research can be very distilled. You made do this paper that contains say five pages of just say one proof for one theorem. Or you have all these definitions, and then you set up this lemma, and then you prove this theorem. But, you're able, at the end of the day, you're able to distill all these ideas. It's in this five page proof you can identify, usually, at max, three, usually two things which would make this proof work. And the rest is just filling in details and understanding. What is it necessary for this proof to work? Then things are very illuminated, I guess. In contrast, for instance, I did after my freshman year, I did this, quantitative social science research. It's basically statistics for differential privacy. It's you have this database, and then you want to be able to access all the all the relevant statistical values, the mean, the standard deviation, whatever. But you don't want each row to be traced back. You don't want anyone's identity to be revealed. And so the idea is that you add a bunch of random noise, and it's well, how much bias is there on? The problem can be easily stated. You know you can understand the project, but I felt that during the whole time I was just doing a bunch of these computations that didn't really have any motivation, and you're just making these estimates. And that was not super satisfying to me, because there was, no bigger picture. Just Oh, you're just fidgeting with numbers to make things work. To me, that isn't really math. That's just computation. I think those are two different things.