Numbers With Personality

In reading Alice Major’s (2017) delightful paper, I particularly enjoyed the personification of numbers, which imbued them with charming personalities. On page 3, the findings from a study showed that participants perceived numbers ending in 3, 7, and 9 as "less good." This immediately reminded me of a chapter from The Number Devil: A Mathematical Adventure by Hans Magnus Enzensberger. In chapter 3, certain numbers are humorously and dramatically called "primadonnas" in a playful story between a devil and a child.

The concept of personifying numbers—assigning them human-like traits—breaks mathematics out of its typical rigorous, objective, and somewhat disconnected perception. I realized that I employ a similar approach in my own teaching. I often "antagonize" irrational numbers, long decimals, and large numbers that are cumbersome or difficult to factor. I might say, “I don’t like this number; it’s too much for me!” to encourage students to convert unwieldy decimals into more manageable, “prettier” fractions. 

Yet, as I reflect on this and write this post, I wonder if I’m being entirely fair. In striving for equity, perhaps these “othered” numbers deserve more respect and gentle attention rather than playful exile. Maybe, like students themselves, they have quirks and challenges that merit curiosity, patience, and a little kindness—reminding me that even in mathematics, empathy can have a place. 

I later paused on page 5 at the paragraph that begins, “However, it seems that we start learning mathematical skill using a more semantic scaffolding…frontal cortex to the parietal areas.” This section highlights how both linguistic and non-linguistic abilities are linked to supporting the understanding of spatial relationships and the organization of collections of items. A common mathematical norm is its strict presentation and reliance on widely accepted symbols—often Western-dominated—leaving little room for other forms of mathematical knowing. Yet much of mathematics is deeply grounded in language, context, and tangible reasoning. I can see how leveraging linguistic scaffolding and being mindful of the funds of knowledge that my students bring, especially linguistically, provides an opportunity to make abstract concepts more accessible. It also reminds me that storytelling, creativity in art and poetry, and even humor can serve as cognitive tools to help students (and even ourselves) make sense of complex mathematical ideas.

Learning About Persian History

Watching Understanding Iran: What Ancient Persia Reveals about Modern Conflict and stopping at the part (31:40) discussing the Shah’s growing alignment with the West made me reflect on how colonialism and Western influence often shape internal divisions within nations. Ancient Persia was once a powerful empire described in the video as known for its tolerance and ability to integrate diverse religions and cultures. Yet in modern times, the introduction of Western ideologies and values was not met with the same openness. This contrast highlights how colonialism even when indirect can disrupt a nation’s sense of identity and autonomy.

The Shah's Westernization effects were perceived as a dismissal of Persian and Islamic values. It shows how modernization imposed through foreign influence can create tension between progress and preservation. In this way, I learned that the conflict in Iran wasn’t just political but also deeply cultural- a struggle between maintaining heritage and adapting to global power dynamics shaped by centuries of colonial dominance.

Later, at 34:50, the speaker mentioned that East Vahan was once so safe that it didn’t even have a prison, and the Shah could walk through the Bazaar without bodyguards. I found that image really striking — I had never even imagined a time or place where prisons or security for political figures weren’t necessary. It made me think about how much trust and unity must have existed within that society. That sense of peace and stability feels almost unimaginable today. This moment also stood in sharp contrast to the unrest that came later. To me, it represented a period when Iranian society seemed more confident in its identity and less threatened by outside influence. Seeing how fear, division, and violence eventually took hold made me realize how deeply colonial and cultural pressures can disrupt a nation from within — not just politically, but emotionally and socially as well.

Finally, I stopped at 39:11 as the speaker was showing these gorgeous blue tiles and describing how Qur’an verses are harmoniously interwoven with patterns from nature. I don’t know very much about the Qur’an, so I found it fascinating to learn how deeply nature and spirituality are connected in Persian art and architecture. The idea that gardens were seen as reflections of paradise and connections to God really stood out to me - it showed how beauty, faith, and daily life were intertwined in a way that felt peaceful and balanced. Seeing how these artistic traditions have lasted for centuries, even through conflict and foreign influence, made me appreciate how strong cultural identity can be. It reminded me that despite the pressures of modernization and colonial influence, Iran’s artistic and spiritual roots continue to express a deep sense of harmony between humanity, nature, and faith.

Overall, I’ve truly learned a lot from this video and gained a deeper understanding of Iran. It made me realize how deeply history, culture, and faith can shape a nation’s identity. Despite Western and settler influences or periods of conflict, Iran’s enduring artistry and spirituality show a beautiful resilience that continues to define its people and their eternal connection to heritage.

Reflecting on Euclid and Mathematical Beauty

When I took a Euclidean or classical geometry course as an undergraduate, we examined Euclid’s axioms in depth. At that time, it struck me that Euclid was truly the forefather of our modern mathematical system- grounding it in truths I had never previously thought to question. What fascinated me most, and what I later came to appreciate even more through reading about The Elements from the St. Andrew’s site, was how carefully Euclid structured his work- from definitions to postulates to logical axioms. This axiomatic method, where each proposition builds upon the previous in a clear deductive sequence, was my first real encounter with a historical mathematical piece that was a systematic presentation of reasoning itself.

I often think about Euclid’s continuing relevance to our current mathematical framework. Euclidean geometry models the geometry of flat space- the geometry that governs the physical world we interact with daily. In fields like architecture and construction, whether building furniture or entire structures, Euclid’s axioms form the invisible foundation for all spatial reasoning. Although non-Euclidean geometries expand beyond these limits, most of my students will only ever work within the Euclidean framework, since it remains central to the curricular content and to how we understand space in practice.

Something that really stayed with me from our class discussions was learning that Western colonizers and settlers viewed The Elements as second only to the Bible in importance. That was new to me, and it made me wonder whether they revered it not only for its content but also for its systematic way of thinking and its pedagogical value. In many ways, Euclid’s work provided a model for what knowledge and reasoning should look like- structured, logical, and ordered- a mindset that profoundly shaped Western education and, through colonial expansion, much of the modern world.

Whenever I think about the term mathematical beauty, I’m reminded of Francis Su’s (2020) Mathematics for Human Flourishing. Su writes about beauty as a human virtue and explains that the first and most accessible kind of mathematical beauty is sensory beauty. In my previous course (EDCP 553) with Susan, we explored embodied mathematics, which I see as a form of sensory beauty itself. Sensory beauty is the kind we experience with our senses- the intricate fractal patterns in cauliflower, the symmetry of Islamic art, or the luminous stained-glass windows of Notre-Dame in Paris (as in the photo attached that I took this summer). These common notions in Euclidean mathematics seem almost simple, so familiar that I’ve often taken them for granted. Yet it wasn’t until I encountered the “counter-universe” of non-Euclidean geometry that my own mathematical universe felt as though it had shattered. And still, it is precisely through the existence- and the limitations- of Euclidean geometry that mathematicians were able to explore and discover the beauty of the non-Euclidean world. Ultimately, Euclid's enduring legacy reminds me that mathematics is not just a study of numbers or shapes, but of how humans seek order, meaning, and beauty in the world around them.