Presentation night

 I gave the keynote speech at JD's old high school on Wednesday. I shall record the speech here for posterity. 

Me, with the guy the high school is named after. 

****

What an honour to celebrate you, [science high school] students, staff, parents. This school has a special place in my heart, because my own child graduated from here three years ago, and [science high school] put him on a path for success in university and beyond. Special thanks to [retiring principal], who has done so much good for this wonderful school. 

I am a mathematician. When I was in high school, I didn't really know that my current job existed. I knew about maths teachers, but I didn't realise how much maths there was in the world. 

I remember showing up to the first day of a high school calculus class. The teacher, Mr Peahrson, welcomed us to the FUN ZONE. 

...

Yes, we all kind of snickered at that, just as you did. But he called us on it. He said, you wouldn't be here if you didn't think mathematics was fun. 

And I peered deep into my teenage heart and realised, maths IS fun. 

Accepting that, following maths where it led me, I am now a mathematician full time. Now, not all of you will get to be mathematicians full time. But I hope you'll also find fun in your futures. 

Since I have you captive for about ten more minutes, I'm going to give you three pieces of advice. First, keep learning, and develop the unique talents you have, and the courage to use them. Second, lift others. And third, get back up again. 

First, develop your unique talents, and have the courage to use them. Some of my research studies mathematical knots. These are just what you think they are -- start with a shoe lace, tie it up in a knot, then fuse the ends together. That is a mathematical knot. The mathematical question is, can you untie the knot without cutting it? This is actually a hard question. A similar question: if the person sitting next to you has also created a knot, how do you know whether your knot and their knot are the same? You can move the string around to try to make it look like theirs, but if it doesn't look like theirs, is it because your knots are different? Or because you haven't yet moved the string correctly? How do you know when to stop trying? These are actually quite difficult mathematical problems. 

One of the first people to study knots was the physicist Peter Guthrie Tait, who in the late 1800s started classifying knots. There was a theory at the time that the fundamental building blocks of the universe were "knotted vortices in the ether" -- whatever that means. So Tait thought that by classifying knots, he was building a periodic table of the elements. 

Well, it turns out that atoms are the fundamental building blocks, and not knotted vortices in the ether, but Tait's work still was very important, as it laid the foundations of a new mathematical field. By the 1960s and 1970s, hundreds and thousands of knots had been classified, due to work of people like Tait, Mary Hasemeyer, John Conway, and others. Let me mention John Conway in particular. He was a Princeton mathematician who studied tangles. He had a knot named after him: the Conway knot. Its simplest presentation has 11 crossings. This takes us up to about the 1970s. 

Fast forward to 2020: We now know that knots give insight into 4-dimensional space. It is easy to imagine 3-dimensional space: we can move through three dimensions, rotate and handle objects. It isn't as easy to understand four dimensions. Knots give some insight. Some, but not all, knots are slice, meaning they are the slice of a knotted 2-dimensional sphere in 4-dimensional space .... 

That's pretty incomprehensible, but the point is, they are important! They detect 4-dimensional maths. 

Is the Conway knot slice? Whether or not a knot was slice was known for all the knots up to 10 crossings. But no one could figure out the Conway knot, for decades. In the late 2010s, a postgraduate student, Lisa Piccarillo at the University of Texas, heard a talk about this problem and wondered, could the new maths invariant that I've been working on answer this question? 

So for a couple of evenings, in her spare time, she tried out her invariant, and within a few days she had an answer:

NO. 

No it is not slice. 

This was a huge discovery! It was widely publicised, including written up in a Quanta Magazine article. In the corresponding research paper, Lisa Piccarillo states that no one has made any progress with the Conway knot. Instead, she shows that there is another knot -- now called the Piccarillo knot -- and Conway is slice if and only if Piccarillo is slice. 

Piccarillo is not slice. 

Long story. Great ending. 

Advice: Use your own knot.

Develop your own skills to face challenges from your own perspective. You have unique ideas and skills. Build these. Train them. Keep learning. Become a person who sees a challenge and asks, can my tools address that? And then try it!

Advice number two. Lift others. It is so easy to tear down. But there is so much good to celebrate. 

From 2020 to 2023 I was the Associate Dean of Research of Monash Science. Basically that means I was the champion of all scientific discoveries coming out of Monash Science for three years, and an advocate for research across all of Monash. I got to learn about all the amazing things happening in Science right now!

For example, there are Monash chemists who are developing new sources for clean energy. Monash physicists are progressing quantum computers, and astrophysicists are learning how stars form and explode. In earth, atmosphere, and environmental science, Monash is leading a team across all of Australia to model weather of our changing planet. In maths, we are calculating the mathematics of heartbeats and disease spread, in addition to the 4-dimensional knotted surfaces that you now know all about. In biological sciences, they are tracking birds and plants, and learning tools for staving off extinction. And that is just Science! Engineering, medicine, pharmacy, economics, business, arts -- we are making huge rapid knowledge advances. 

This is an amazing time to be young, stepping into a future of so much possibility!

This is also a frightening time to be young. There are social, geopolitical, and environmental challenges that we are facing that are bigger than what one person can tackle alone. We need people with us. We need to support each other, to support all the good that needs to be done. 

It is so easy to tear down. But instead, build up. 

As you develop your unique talents, help others develop theirs. Work with them. 

I am currently the President of the Australian Mathematical Society. In that role, I attended a meeting a few months ago in which Distinguished Professor Ian Chubb, who was Australia's Chief Scientist from 2011 to 2016, gave a presentation. He shared concerns that many people didn't understand the breadth and depth and good that science can do, especially in tandem with others from the social sciences, arts, law, etc. Science is being devalued. 

I raised my hand and asked, what can I do? What can we do? The Australian Mathematical Society has over 1000 members, who have all signed up because they love maths and want to help. What can we do? 

His response, in my words, was: Never pass up an opportunity to lift science, to promote science. 

Lift science. Lift others. When you find yourself with unique tools to solve the world's challenges, help others to see and solve them with you. 

Advice number three: Get back up again. 

You will fail. It will hurt.

Tonight is a night of well-deserved celebration. We are celebrating your wonderful accomplishments and your success. But you will not be successful if you do not fail. 

I'm a pretty fancy person -- Associate Dean Research, President of the Australian Mathematical Society. But I fail all the time. Grant denied. Paper rejected. Team member doesn't get the job -- my people fail too, and it hurts. Parents -- you know what I mean. You watch your child work so hard for something that doesn't come through, and it hurts, sometimes more than your own failure. 

On the same note, but slightly different story, a couple of weeks ago I took the bus from the Huntingdale station to Monash. As I stepped off the bus, I tripped, and fell. I watched myself keep falling, almost in slow motion, superman style, until I was sprawled across the bus stop, hundreds of people watching. I was mortified. I really wanted to roll back into the bus and go home. But of course I didn't. I had to get up, dust myself off, and go be fancy again. 

When you fail, grieve, but then dust yourself off, look back to see if there is something to change, and then move forward again. 

It is the end of the semester. I am cleaning out my office. I have recently recycled stacks of failed calculations. I have been trying to understand a certain problem, and it looks like finally, we do have some answers. But there is nothing like a physical stack of failure to help you realise how important failure is to achievement. 

Get up again. 

In summary, first, develop your unique talents, and have the courage to use them. 

Second, lift others. Lift science. Work with people. 

Third, get back up again when you fail. 

You have an amazing future in front of you -- with challenges -- but opportunities the world has never seen. I wish you all the best in an amazing future. 

I would rather be melancholy

It is spring here. Really, truly spring. There are leaves on all the trees again. The camellias in the garden are in bloom. There is daylight after 7pm. And it is warmer outside. Short sleeves warm. 

And yet, here I am snuggled into my fuzzy red robe in the living room, cuddling up with a warm cup of chocolate. 

It's a bit too warm for the fuzzy robe, but manageable for now. Definitely too warm for hot chocolate. I'm not actually drinking it, just keeping it nearby for the vibe. 

Am I crazy? You ask. Why bundle up in snuggly gear on a warm spring day? And who sits with a cup of chocolate, like a prop, all alone in their living room?

Well, I am not any more crazy than I have ever been. But honestly, since you asked, I am feeling a little sad today. Sad is so ... sad. I don't really want to be sad.

So I have decided instead to be melancholy. 

I would rather be melancholy.

Melancholy is a fuzzy robe and chocolate and maybe watching Jane Eyre again, with the mist hovering over the moors. I don't actually know what a moor is, but it sounds like it would match my desired melancholy mood, so I will incorporate it into my evening. Melancholy. 

****

Where have I been? you ask. Why no updates since Easter? What happened to the Clown and Poker that I learned to love over years and years of small essays and updates?

I've been writing too much in my day job. I just couldn't take any more. I'm still writing too much, but I reserve the right to log in here and post something that makes me think or laugh every now and then.

Easter Eve in Salt Lake

I was moving from one conference to another. The one in LA ended Friday afternoon. The one in Banff started Monday morning. And there was Easter in between. After staring at flights for a long time, I realised that the best solution would be to fly to Salt Lake to visit my parents over the weekend, then fly to Calgary. Their house is roughly equally spaced between the airports, there were direct flights to both, and although it might cost a bit more in flights, I would save $500 in hotel fees. That was my pitch to the university travel agency, at least, and it worked. 

My mom announced a gathering. I would only be around for one full day, let's bring everybody in to say hello. 

And she did. And it was really, truly lovely. All these people, who I love, but who I never see anymore, came to say hello. 

I took some photos, but nothing systematic, so I probably missed other people who I love. 

They came from all over the state. There was talking and laughing and food and chaos. 

My sister wrote in her newsletter entry that: "It was fun to hang out again, felt like old times when I was a kid and like 40 people were in the house (and by ‘house’ I mean kitchen, dining room, and front room) and everything was very busy."

Somehow that's always the house that I see when visiting my parents, but I guess that's because I don't see them much, so I'm part of the busy people. Whereas my sister lives nearby, and visits when it is quiet, and just my two parents rattle around in that house that used to hold bazillions of us. 

The reality in my memory doesn't match the reality on the ground. I still hold on to events and actions that made strong impressions. My parents don't remember any of that. It is not their reality at all. 

Melancholy.

There was a bit of light rain and snow, with clouds covering the mountains that ordinarily stand vigil out the front door. 

Still striking to see the low mountains from the high school parking lot.

And then Sunday morning I flew out to Canada. 

Part III: More So Cal

Here are some more photos from my parents' visit to Los Angeles. 

They split up the drive, to arrive the afternoon before our trip to the Getty.  I met up with them and we walked around the UCLA campus, and nearby. 

First stop was the UCLA Botanic Gardens, where the cherry tree was in bloom. 

I was sure I took a picture of the cherry tree. But it isn't in my photos. So I guess maybe it was Mom who took a picture of the cherry tree? It seemed that maybe half the trees were native Australian trees. We have a similar climate in Melbourne to that of Los Angeles. Their botanic garden was full of Australian gum trees, Australian fig trees, and even a bunya bunya pine, which grows massive seed-pods every few years. In the Melbourne Botanic gardens, when the bunya bunya is seeding, they rope off a huge region around the pines, and eventually send people to safely cut down the bowling-ball sized heavy cones so they don't kill any visitors. Do you think UCLA takes these precautions? Or maybe their bunya bunya doesn't seed?

Anyway, I was going to insert here a photo of the bunya bunya in the UCLA Botanic Gardens, so you could see what the tree looks like, but it seems I didn't take a picture of that either. Sorry, internet. I suppose you can do your own image search for a bunya bunya at this point. I'll wait if you want to step away for that.

Ok. Near UCLA there is a little shopping area with movie theaters, restaurants, grocery stores, Target, etc. We walked around that next. The new Ghostbuster movie was showing, and the theater had the Ghostbuster car there on display! 

That's all I've got from Friday. My last post had the photos from Saturday. So that leaves Sunday. 

On Sunday, we drove to the Santa Monica Pier. 

Actually, that's not quite right. We drove to Santa Monica, and parked near a building labeled "Visitor Information" at my Mom's request. But the Visitor Information building was definitely closed. It was only about a 20 minute walk from there to the pier, said my phone map. My parents said they were up for it, so we walked. 

The walk looked like a nice smooth walk along the beach, on well marked trails under partly cloudy skies.

In reality we were getting sandblasted by wind while bikes and runners raced by. If we don't say anything about the reality the pictures look great.

The pier itself was even colder and windier. But we walked to the end.

 

 

We took some pictures of the ocean.

And then turned around and walked back. 

I decided to take my parents back to the road away from the beach for the walk back. Still, they are slow. Slower than me. It took us 30-40 minutes for what the phone map said would be about 20. I think I wore them out a little too much. 

And then I sent them off back onto the road for their long drive home. 

They did make it back home, in spite of the fact that we had walked a long long time. 

Thanks for coming, Mom and Dad. 

Travel part II: Los Angeles

I was in Los Angeles over the weekend before Easter. 

Google says that Los Angeles is 7,937.5 miles from Melbourne. Or 12,774.16 km. That's a long way. After traveling that far, it makes sense to meet up with people who are nearby. I don't think I know anyone who lives in Los Angeles, but I do know some people who live significantly closer to Los Angeles than Melbourne. For example, I have a dear Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Dave who live in Southern California, only about 72 miles away from UCLA. That is less than 1/100-th of the usual distance between us.

So I contacted Dave and Elizabeth a few months ago to see if we could meet up? Turns out it happened to be my uncle's birthday, but he couldn't think of anything nicer to do than spend it with me. (Awshucks.)

And later, in conversation with my Mom, I realised my parents live only 705 miles from UCLA. That's  less than 1/10-th of the usual distance between us, and it would only take them a full day to drive across the desert to visit. So I called them:

"Mom and Dad, want to visit LA while I'm there?"

And they like to drive, in a way that I hated when I was a kid, when I was stuck with them where ever they decided to drive, no matter how long it took. But this liking-to-drive thing now could work in my favour, especially since I wouldn't be in the car.

Anyway, they were up for it. So I found them a nearby hotel, booked a room, and off they went. 

So I got to spend my weekend with family! It was lovely to see these people, who I miss. Dave and Elizabeth picked us up at the hotel where my parents were staying, and we drove to the Getty museum, which is not far from UCLA. 

It was raining. 

But the grounds were still quite beautiful. 

 And the weather did start to clear up later in the day.

After a couple of hours, it was clear enough to see all the way across Los Angeles. Here I am with my parents.

And one with just me:

And my favourite photo of the day: Dad, Elizabeth, Mom, Dave. I told them I thought they looked like a K-pop band.

They just need a catchy name. Pink Geezers. 

After another drive, 

... we decided on dinner at Eataly, which is an Italian grocer / restaurant / chain that Elizabeth and Dave recommended, and was very fun. 

I am not very good at taking photos. I did not take a photo of the restaurant. I did not take a photo of the food, or Dave and Elizabeth, or my parents. Everything was delicious and lovely, but I did not take a photo.

I guess what strikes me more than food or lovely people or lovely locations are things that are a bit absurd. And so the only photo I have from Eataly is a sign in the ladies' toilets:

In the fine print it says: "Do not drink the toilet or urinal water."

YIKES! Do people need signs like this??! What is the US coming to!!??

Erk. 

Anyway, that is kind of a terrible photo to finish with, but it was also my last from a spectacularly lovely day, filled with the best company and most fabulous future K-pop band ever.

So maybe I'll end with another photo from the Getty. 

Thanks, Dave and Elizabeth, Mom and Dad, for humoring me and coming to visit, even though it was far. I loved it!

Travel part I: UCLA

I recently returned from spending three weeks in the US. I have lots of Thoughts every time I travel. Maybe I will put some Thoughts here. 

I started in California, at UCLA, where the weather was pretty symmetric to Melbourne weather, except off by a season. Their cool weather was the start of spring, where ours was slipping into autumn. 

The vegetation was nearly identical. Lawns and native Australian trees. 

From the photos, it could be Melbourne. The way to tell it apart is by the big banners every 10 feet proclaiming that you are on the UCLA campus. 

 

And by listening. 

...

No squawking parrots. None. 

There were squirrels, but they were pretty silent, comparatively. 

 

The first week of the trip was less structured from a work point of view. I arrived early to do some quiet work and to try to adjust to the time zone, so that I wouldn't sleep through the workshop. 

That plan would have worked better, I think, if I had picked a different hotel.

I received a notice just before my arrival that the hotel would be hosting high-security visitors. I should expect extra security and protesters. 

I didn't anticipate the fact that they would put me, the Nobody staying at the hotel, overlooking the portion of parking lot where the protesters were cordoned off. That was a bit obnoxious. 

I didn't anticipate that on Wednesday evening around 9pm, they would shout into a direct speaker in my room the fact that the hotel was closed to protesters, and anyone in the lobby would be subject to arrest. Direct speaker into my room!

And I didn't anticipate the fact that the security guards would make me wait outside in the dark on Thursday, after my long long evening walk, to search for my name on a list of guests. That I would need to repeat my name and my room number over and over, and over and over again, before finally someone new arrived to let me through. That didn't feel secure at all. Anyone listening now knew exactly who I was and where I was staying (overlooking the protester car park, FYI), and now someone listening could safely use my name and room number, for example at the hotel restaurant (just charge the meal to "my" room -- here's the name and number!). It was unnerving. 

And finally, I received a notice under my door:

In summary, it reads:

"Dear Guest, Do not be disturbed when thousands of students run screaming past your window at midnight in their underwear. It is a tradition."

My text to Tim: "Blargh! Next time don't let me pick the hotel on campus!!!!"

What happened in February

Jessica: Time to write a family newsletter. What happened in February?

Jonathan: It was hot.

***

It wasn’t that hot. The daily high temperatures ranged from 20 degrees C to 38. That’s 68F to 100F, which isn’t so unusual for summer. You can see from the graph below, from the Bureau of Meteorology, that there were more cool days in the high 60s F and low 70s F than hot days near 100 F. Plus after (during?) hot days, Melbourne typically has a drastic cool change: the wind swaps directions suddenly, and the temperature drops about 20 degrees C. Or from 100F down to 68F in about 15 minutes. Melbournians love it. I think I might prefer more constant summer temperatures in the high 20s C or low 30s C (around 80 degrees F). We didn’t get too many of those days in February.

***

What else happened in February?

At the beginning of the month, Tim was in Santa Clara California for work for the first time since 2019. His company has built a new building since then. Tim kept sending pictures like this:

Cool building, Tim.

Meanwhile, Jonathan and I participated in Melbourne’s Midsumma Pride March. Looking back to the temperature graph, you see that sharp spike early in the month? Yup. That was the hot weather we had for the march. A bit too hot, actually. That would be part of Jonathan’s memories of heat.

On February 13, another of those big heat spikes ended via a massive storm. The storm was particularly bad at Monash – it took down a lot of trees, blocked the public transit, and campus was closed the following day. It took me a long time to get home that day. Photos below show the damage in front of the Science building, and a view of a small part of the long line for train-replacement-buses to get out of the city after that storm. Luckily, I commute from the suburbs back into the city, so my wait wasn’t quite as bad (I wasn’t in that line). 

On February 15, when the temperature was back down in the cool-zone, we cashed in on our Christmas present: The family went to see Groundhog Day the musical. That was fun.

There were a couple other small heat spikes before the end of the month as well. My photos show that Tim and I went with a friend to check out his boat on St Kilda harbor on 25 February, which was definitely a day on the hotter side of warm.

But otherwise all my pictures of February are pictures of gorgeous summer weather.

This is my favourite time of year not to be in winter. Even when it is hot. 

 

Honestly?

I returned home after a month in Canberra on Saturday afternoon. I hauled my bags through the summer heat in the Melbourne tram system, then up the stairs in our apartment building to dump them in the front entryway with a sigh of relief. Home.

Tim was away for work. Jonathan was out with friends. So for a few hours, it would be just me in the blissful peace of my own space in my lovely living room--

Except what?

The Christmas tree was still up, fully decorated. Looking the other way, the Christmas stockings were still hanging over the fireplace. The full nativity set was still arranged next to the dining room table, one sad camel tipped on its side. 

We had a family conversation on the 5th of January as I was packing for my month-long trip. It went like this.

Me: "Hey I'll be gone for a month. Do you want me to start helping you put away Christmas? If so, it has to be today."

Tim and Jonathan: "No don't worry about that. We've got it. Just finish packing and we love you."

And so I headed off, sure that the Christmas clean up was in good hands.

Up until I found it untouched on 3rd February.

So rather than unpack my bags, I dug out the Christmas boxes and started wrapping up ornaments, folding up Christmas linens, packing away Christmas lights. 

Three hours later everything was done, stashed away back in its box in the high cupboard. Except the tree. I got it into three parts. But I couldn't figure out how to fold the parts into the box. I hauled it into Tim's office and left it for him.

Tim gets back from California today. I'll be at work, but he'll find a partially disassembled Christmas tree on the floor of his office. 

Because nothing brings more warm fuzzy feelings than Christmas.

In Canberra

I've been in Canberra for almost four weeks now, teaching a summer school class. The class has been fun, but pretty intensive, with no breaks. For example I finished planning Monday's class on Sunday night. And then I had to plan the next one on Monday. And then the next one on Tuesday. And so on. And now it's getting late on Wednesday night and I need to organise two hours of material for tomorrow.

*Sigh*

But it has been nice being somewhere a little different, and a little warmer (on average) than Melbourne. We've had multiple days in a row with warm summer weather. That's different and fun and exciting. 

And I've seen a lot of birds and animals in Canberra. 

Like water dragons. 

And red-rumped parrots.

And an echidna -- sorry for the poor photo.

Campus is lovely. 

Over the second weekend, Tim and Jonathan came out to visit. We did some walking.

And a visit to the Canberra mint.

 

And the third weekend, which was a long weekend, a friend invited me to join her family at a beach house on the coast, and that was amazing and needs its own post. 

Anyway, Canberra has been great, and I'm happy to have come. And I'm really ready to go home again. 

*Sigh*

Resolving

To be completely honest, I am burnt out. 

I like working with people, but I haven't been able to keep up with the meetings, with students, with collaborators, with responsibilities. Up until the holidays, I was working most evenings and most weekends just to keep my head above water. I've let a few important balls drop, including one or two when I've been sideswiped by an unexpected migraine. The migraines seem to be increasing a bit in severity as well -- possibly due to the fact that I am aging, but also possibly because I'm doing too much and trying too hard to pretend the migraines aren't there when they've always been there. So rather than looking forward to the new year with anticipation and curiosity, I find myself facing the idea of returning to work with some unwelcome dread. I don't want to go back to the place where I'm letting all those people down again. 

Things have to be different this year. They have to be. But I'm not really sure what that's going to look like. Jonathan has been asking what I'm resolving to do in the new year. I'm not much into resolutions, but I know there needs to be a change.

I've stepped out of one position, effective immediately -- but the paperwork hasn't yet come through, so I'm not sure what "immediately" means. Also, I agreed to write a couple dozen reviews in January related to the old position rather than drop the new person into it. So there is also that. 

And I won a prestigious internal grant this past year, which will allow me to try to focus more on research and less on teaching and administration. So that will also be different. But it comes with strings attached -- I'm supposed to leverage it into an even bigger grant and a big grant application. 

Dread.

I know what I need to do. I need to take things slowly, one day at a time. I need to plan little steps to finish the big projects. I need to devote reasonable amounts of time to homework -- more than I've been scheduling in the past year -- and I need to be able to step between projects. And I need breathing space between projects, not meetings after meetings after meetings. 

My superpower has never been that I am smart or kind or curious, although I aspire to be all of those things. My superpower is that I am organised. I can look ahead to what needs to happen in a year, and I can make the skeleton of a plan, and I can fill in the details as I go. For example, below is the plan that I showed to the committee to win the prestigious internal grant. 

Organised. But not even organisation can overcome a calendar packed completely full. So I resolve to keep gaps in the calendar every week. Every day. Big gaps for thinking and being and solving. 

I hope the gaps will be enough to help my head get back to a better place. I hope they allow space not just to deal healthily with the migraines, but also space to relax and laugh and think and enjoy some of the things I stopped enjoying last year, like reading novels or writing and thinking.

So I guess I resolve to do less. You read it first here. 

Happy New Year

For the last couple of years, we've met up with Jonathan's friends and their parents to watch the city fireworks. One of the main areas for fireworks is only about a 20 minute walk up the road, so we head out there with a blanket and glow sticks. Here are a few photos of the night.

Happy New Year everyone.