and differential equations, which play an important role in differential geometry.  He told us that he has been studying the Ricci flow on manifolds in relation to the Poincaré conjecture (I think).  When the looks on our faces betrayed our collective total lack of a clue he went on to try to explain.  This is when we learned he is quite the garage topologist.  In a matter of minutes he single handedly (although using both hands) used a Ziploc sandwich bag to represent S², S³, and S⁴.  On the bag he performed surgeries, attaching no less than 1 right hand, and 2 tea bags.  I tried, at one point during the discussion, to use a tea cup to help illustrate the concept of genus he was explaining by wadding the sandwich bag up into some sort of torus, but it was clear my cliché cup example was no match for his S.C. Johnson genius (yes, I know I am retarded).
      After the mathematical discussion ended there were a few awkward pauses as we realized we were all boring math people and hence had nothing else to talk about.  Zack, who takes Japanese language and poetry classes, tried to engage Peng in a discussion about Asian literature and cinema, but it seemed they had not read any of the same novels or poetry, nor had they seen any of the same movies, so this failed miserably.
    All in all he seemed like a nice guy and those he will be taking 400 analysis next year can look forward to having him as their teacher.

by Shawn Foster

    I was always quite competent with numbers and letters and rarely shy in class. These features translated into early success in college. When I finally declared a major (almost two years in) I decided to return to Mathematics. Now, my inflated GPA and newfound status as a Math major must have set off an alert at the 'Trig Cave' because within a week I was told to come talk to the staff head of peer advising and soon thereafter began my initiation into the throng of peer advisors. She showed me to the math undergraduate lounge.

Enter . . . Hilbert Space.

    The place was packed and in utter disarray, a cacophony of sound and discourse. It smelled of aged chalk dust and long passed confused students. Three or four people (students I assumed) were arguing at one of the four chalkboards about symbols I knew nothing about. I was supposed to help students with questions like these? A congregation of other students sat scribbling furiously at papers, flipping fixedly through decidedly minute textbooks. I think it was the first few weeks of spring term, 2003. I was taking number theory, multi variable calculus II, and finishing up my English minor. Now the important information key to this paragraph is: the last course I took regarding proofs was my high school freshman year Geometry course with Mr. Krieger, 1991, and now I was taking my first course involving strict mathematical proofs from one of the most demanding professors in the U of O Math Department. I was blind-sided.
I was standing on new ground for me, academic confusion. I think my first homework score was around 15 out of 70 and I had no idea how to improve. The second score was worse. I went to talk to the professor but my approach was completely wrong and I came away feeling even more