Not your Ma'am

 Reflections on a few things that I was thinking about in January:

1) Not your Ma'am

The other day, someone on X (formerly, Twitter) left a reply on a tweet. Soon after that, they left another tweet apologizing for not addressing me as "Ma'am". This made me think more about appropriate ways of addressing faculty members, senior colleagues, peers that we are communicating with for the first time, and of course, people with whom we interact on social media. At IISER, several students address their teachers by their first names. But, many students prefer sticking to the time-honoured tradition of "Sir/Ma'am".  

Professional, polite and mutually respectful interactions involve more than modes of address. While it's not exactly rocket science, this aspect does involve more effort than choosing a form of addressing each other. It includes, for example,

A) writing emails with complete sentences, 

B) showing up on mutually decided meeting hours on time or letting the other person know in advance of any delay or change in plans, 

C) making reasonable requests (such as informing the instructor well in advance if you are requesting for a reference letter, providing them all the documents that will help them write the letter and following up closer to the deadline), and 

D) learning to conduct smooth discussions on matters of disagreement (such as when the student and the instructor differ on the grades that the former should receive, or when two colleagues have a difference of opinion).

The above contribute much more to an atmosphere of academic freedom and meaningful exchange of ideas than choosing (or not choosing) to call someone by name. 

Some (not all) of my senior colleagues insist on being called by their first names, and can even be a little fanatic about it. They feel that if a younger person is addressing them with titles and honorifics, it will prevent them from freely sharing their thoughts. The younger folks do not necessarily believe this to be the case. I have never held back from expressing my views based on how I am addressing the other person: obstacles to free expression usually arise from how the other person reacts, especially if they are in a position of power over you. 

At the same time, I can see a distinct advantage in insisting early on that your younger peers call you by name. When former students and mentees become colleagues, it is unbearably awkward to continue to be called "Ma'am" by them . But, it is also awkward for the younger person to change the mode of reference.  Nevertheless, the change has to be made, and it's probably easier to do it sooner than later [1]. 

It is totally okay to call your instructor by name (especially if you are making an effort on Points A-D, where the real work lies). It's even more okay if you pronounce/spell the name correctly.

2) The choice will make itself

The spring semester is a time of great churn. Our second year BS MS students are now in the process of making a decision about what they want to major in. The PhD admission and postdoctoral application season has started. Many people, while navigating between different entrance exams (such as NET, GATE, NBHM etc) and multiple applications, are trying to determine whether they want to walk down the academic path or consider alternative careers. In many cases, there are at least two options that look equally attractive. In some cases, one option seems to be what they really want, whereas the other option appears to offer better worldly benefits. A common conundrum among students who talk to me is to choose between majoring in physics versus mathematics. "I like both the subjects, and the thought of choosing one over the other is causing me a great deal of anxiety and FOMO," said a student. 

As the person in most of these conversations who has been through the process a "few" more times than them, my advice is that they keep brainstorming the advantages and disadvantages of each choice. That they use this as an opportunity to sharpen their decision-making powers by considering multiple angles and perspectives. That they also use this as an opportunity to draw within themselves to recognize (possibly for the first time) what will personally make them happy. I am reminded of a silly dialogue from a movie that had come out when I was about to start my Master's. "Close your eyes," said a character to another. "Who do you see? That's the one for you." Go ahead, adapt this principle to your career choices as well, I joked with a student. Close your eyes, and imagine you are in a beautiful, cosy study room with a big window and a view of beautiful mountains with sunlight filtering in. There's a hot cup of coffee next to you. What do you see yourself doing? "I see myself working with a pen and paper," said the student. To me, that pretty much seals the choice. But it could also mean theoretical physics, the student suggests. 

One cannot deny the absolute importance of individual agency in making life decisions. An unrelenting, thorough reflection on our choices sharpens our logical reasoning, mental resilience, and self-awareness. It gives us the courage to take complete responsibility for our choices (to completely "own them", in popular parlance).  But what finally happens is also based on several factors beyond our control or current knowledge. Can you predict that a pandemic will break out? Can you possibly foresee a diplomatic storm ensuing between your country and the one you wanted to study in? Did the flight/train to your job interview get cancelled [2]? Did the professor you wanted to work move away soon after you joined the university?

On a more pleasant note, while you are more or less ready to move to Field A, you may suddenly end up listening to a beautiful lecture in Field B that will miraculously change your mind. You may meet a wise person during a journey or a conference (or both) who will make you re-evaluate your priorities [3]. 

One must think carefully about all of our choices. At the "moment of reckoning", however, it is highly likely that the choice will make itself. 

3) Give it time

Social media recently erupted with discussions about 70 hour and 90 hour work weeks. Such discussions often touch a raw nerve, as most of us navigate multiple demands on our time, and there is always unfair judgement on what we choose to allot less (or more) time to. 

If we sign up for something or accept a responsibility, there is no substitute to giving it the time that it needs. Every aspect of work, personal or professional, needs time. We hope that before taking something on, we carefully consider the time that it will take, and then take a call based on the availability of time to us. But, more often than not, a task takes longer than we thought it would, and as functioning adults, we do our best to rise to the situation. 

Solving new problems or proving new theorems is that aspect of a mathematician's work that takes much longer than one thought it would. We lose track of time spent on it, and I have never heard any scientist complaining about the amount of time it took them to finish a project: this is often narrated with pride and joy. On a similar note, I have never met a colleague or friend in academia who complained about devoting time to preparing good lectures, either for their courses or for conferences/seminars.

There are other parts of our job which also take time: peer review (including referee reports for journal submissions, writing reference letters for job candidates and PhD applicants), committee work, and mentoring students who may not be directly working with us but reach out for support or guidance. Our reputation is built on the integrity with which we execute these tasks, and all of it directly depends on how much time we allot to it. 

In the last few years, I have blogged a lot about learning to bring structure and consistency over long periods of time to meet goals that seemed challenging. Occasionally, I have also reflected upon how long it takes for growth to happen and for something to come to fruition: a research idea, a book, or career milestones. My personal growth and mental health have skyrocketed after I made a simple pact with myself: that I would give any task the time that it needs without judgement or anxiety. 

It seems that both the industry leaders who brought up the issue of work hours wanted to encourage their employees to have ambitious goals befitting their abilities, and devote the time needed to meet those goals. Instead, at least one of them ended up issuing statements that sounded condescending and even crass. Framing your views thoughtfully before communicating them also takes time.

Footnotes:

[1] The Bengalis seem to have evolved a working solution to this problem: they follow the middle path, and simply add "Da" or "Di" while calling older people by their names. This can remain constant even as one graduates through different career stages,

[2] This has happened to me. On a January morning several springs ago, I boarded a flight to go for a job talk in another city, but the flight never took off. The runway was being used by some aircrafts for Republic Day practice. 

[3] Yes, it does sound over-the-top, but both have happened to me, and to some others I know.

Tales of a teacher

A few days ago, I realized that I have now been teaching for 20 years. I taught my first course in the Spring of 2004, as a 23 year old PhD student. Once the teaching committee at my university identified grad students who could do a reasonable job on the blackboard and were ready to face large classes, they would give us an option to either teach a full semester course, followed by a teaching-free semester, or perform teaching assistantship duties such as marking and tutoring for both semesters. I chose the former option. My very first course as an instructor was in the year when I was to take my comprehensive examination, which would determine if I could stay on for a PhD or not. 

This was a service course in linear algebra for a class of around 80 students: most students taking the course were from other departments, and had to take this as a required course. Many students were in the senior years of their programme. So, it turned out that many were older than me. Some had decided to start or resume university studies after several years: in some cases, their children were in university at the same time, and would help them with the assignments. I continued to see this phenomenon through all the years that I was in Canada. Teaching in Canada gave me a chance to experience their culture in a unique setting. I also learnt how much these people valued politeness, kindness and sensitivity. On one occasion, for example, an older student was concerned that I was looking unwell, and offered to drive me to the medical clinic, as there was heavy snowfall outside. Students would regularly show up for office hours, and apart from working on their assignments, we would occasionally discuss other parts of our lives: this is how the class came to know that I was getting ready to face the dreaded comprehensive examination. On the day of the exam, a large part of the class showed up for the "public" part of the exam: the research proposal had to be presented in a 20 minute presentation. They probably did not understand any part of the talk, but showed up to support and encourage me. I deeply value this memory. 

I taught again the next year; this time, I was teaching a course in Complex Analysis to 100+ engineering students. In complete contrast to the previous class, these were a bunch of brats: this was the only class I've ever taught where I had to request students to not whistle in class [1]. After a few lectures, a sombre mood prevailed in the class. Complex Analysis has this effect on most of humanity. We started getting on well, and the course proceeded smoothly. One other crazy experience with this batch was on St. Patrick's day (or was it the morning after?) While half of the class was absent, the other half showed up drunk. Let's just say that thanks to this class, I had the "now, I've seen it all" moment quite early in my teaching life! No other batch of students has come close to putting me through what this class did.

The year after that, I was getting ready to defend my thesis. I was again assigned the same course in Linear Algebra that I had taught before: this time, the students got to know about my defence date [2], and some showed up for the public presentation. To make the presentation more relatable to them, I kept using words from linear algebra such as finite dimensional vector space, diagonalizable linear operators, basis of eigenforms etc (in the context of my thesis work, of course) which made some members of my defence committee smile. Incidentally, my class was scheduled soon after the defence, but I had requested a friend to cover for me. While the students sauntered down the hall after the presentation, she waited outside the defence room while I went through the closed-door exam. We cut a celebratory cake with some other friends after I was declared a "Doctor", and she ran down to teach my class, while I sat numb and dazed in the lounge [3].

My teaching reviews that semester were filled with congratulatory messages. In these reviews, I got some of the earliest reference letters of my career: several students recommended that I be hired as a "full-time" professor. 

My first faculty position (or as my former students would put it, my first position as a "full-time professor") was at IISER Kolkata, which was then functioning out of a temporary campus on the ruins of an older university. For my very first course, we did not have a classroom. So, some chairs were arranged next to a board in a computer lab. While the students were excellent and super-motivated (one of the best things I like about being at an IISER), one vague memory I have is of the director or some HOD often walking into the lab with a prospective faculty candidate to show them the computational facilities. The candidate would often shoot a confused glance when they saw me lecturing to a handful of students, while people worked on their computers in the other half of the room.

For the next batch, I managed to get a classroom. It had a pillar right in front of the board. Every single day, I had to resist the temptation to swing around it like Shah Rukh Khan in Swades (in case you don't know which scene I am talking about, watch here from 2.25 onwards). Sometimes, clueless goats and cows would wander into our classroom. I was fortunately spared the experience of snakes entering the classroom (they seemed to have a preference for labs, hostels and faculty homes, including mine). On one occasion, due to a failure of coordination between IISER security and that of the university that we were functioning from, the building gate was locked with all of us inside. Again, I have a vague memory of it raining and the mobile networks not working: so, it took a while for someone to come and let us out [4]. The good thing is that with all these shared experiences, this batch and I developed a special affinity: students from this batch still call me up or email me on Teachers' Day, and also stay in touch with me. 

Soon, I moved to IISER Pune. Almost all my teaching has happened here. In the 20 years since my first course in the Spring of 2004, I've now taught all kinds of courses at many levels: from first year undergrad to PhD students, with class sizes ranging from 2 to 200, including general, introductory courses, standard courses for math majors, specialized topics courses (one of which led to writing a book) and PhD-level courses. Fortunately, I never again had to deal with students whistling in class, or showing up drunk (not that I know of, anyway). I occasionally see people scrolling on their phones or falling asleep: but that is okay, as long as they do not disrupt the class. 

The pandemic teaching was an entirely different experience: for nearly two years, I lectured to an empty class, my lectures were recorded by the staff members from our Science Media Centre (who, surprisingly, never fell asleep in the lectures) and the recordings were shared with students. 

One of my most recent experiences was in Autumn 2023, when I taught probability to a large class of 200 students. I was curious about this experiment: I was teaching probability for the first time, and to a batch of students who had finished the last few years of their school in online mode due to the pandemic. In addition, many of our students in the early years have not had mathematics in Classes 11th and 12th. The course had its challenges, but was successful overall. In fact, the teaching reviews indicate that I seem to have taught long enough to develop a sense of humour.

In complete contrast, this semester, I am teaching a course on Fourier Analysis to a small class of 7 math majors in the fourth year. Thanks to their previous preparation and high motivation levels, we finished more than 90 percent of the syllabus before the midsem. So, we now have the freedom to explore more advanced topics. I am using this opportunity to learn a new topic and teach it to them as well, namely Fourier analysis and the theory of uniform distribution on compact topological groups. Fourier analysis mostly focuses on one particular such group, namely the unit circle. From what I am learning so far, showing it all as a special example of a more general theory makes the treatment of the subject neater and more elegant. 

This course (and the larger experience of teaching over the last 20 years) has taught me how closely intertwined the experiences of self-study, learning and teaching are. May this go on.

[1] "Request" is a euphemism. My exact question was: "Am I in a university class, or a fish market?" The whistling stopped, but some students told me later that they were confused by the allusion to a fish market. This seemed to be a uniquely cultural phrase, that is more relatable to Indians than Canadians. 

[2]  From their super-chatty prof, naturally :-)

[3] In retrospect, I suppose I could have pushed myself a little more to teach the class as well.

[4] If you visit the sophisticated, permanent campus of IISER Kolkata today, you will have no inkling of how it was in the early days.

Tales of a PhD advisor

A few years ago, I may have achieved a world record of sorts. 60 percent of the students in an advanced course that I was teaching requested me to become their PhD advisor. 

To put the numbers in perspective, the class just had 5 students. I was flattered and agreed to supervise all the 3 students who made the request. Two of these students continued working with me, and one later moved to the research group of my colleague, Soumen Maity. This month, both my students have successfully defended their thesis. Jewel Mahajan defended on the 1st of December, and I am posting this blog right after the conclusion of Jishu Das's defence. Jishu has been co-supervised along with my colleague, Baskar Balasubramanyam. So, as of today, I am a proud advisor of 4 PhD students.  May I exult in the joy for a few seconds and remind myself that in my field and at my career stage, this is a number to be reasonably proud of? 

My first two PhD students, Sudhir Pujahari and Neha Prabhu graduated in 2016 and 2017 respectively; they both hold faculty positions now, and are doing very well. Sudhir joined as a PhD student at IISER Kolkata, and later moved to IISER Pune with me; Neha joined me at Pune. Incidentally, Sudhir is the second Math PhD from IISER Pune. The first PhD from our department is Yasmeen Akhtar, who was supervised by Soumen Maity, and is now a faculty member at BITS Goa. 

As the year comes to an end, it feels great to reflect on my journey and experiences as a PhD advisor. The relationship between a PhD supervisor and students is one of the most important relationships in the academic journey, and also a fundamental component of how knowledge grows in a field. Several comparisons are made with other formative relationships in life, such as the parent-child relationship. 

My relationship with each of my students is unique. While I saw (and continue to see) each of them grow as mathematicians and human beings, it is equally true that they have seen me grow as well, both professionally and personally. My students found me at distinct stages; the person who advised Sudhir and Neha (Students 1 and 2) was very different from the person who advised Jewel and Jishu (Students 3 and 4). 

When Sudhir started working with me, I was six months into my first faculty position. Neha joined me a year or so after I moved to Pune. So, I was at an "early-career" stage when both of them started working with me. My early career years had their own set of struggles and anxieties. The key struggle was that I was experimenting with different ideas, and it took me some time to build a vision for my core research programme. I have written about this struggle here. In that sense, both Neha and Sudhir were fellow-adventurers, but the anxious part of me did indeed wonder once in a while if I had started supervising students too early on. Looking back today, these fears now appear unfounded. In fact, the success of a joint project with Neha helped us both to forge research paths to move ahead. 

By the time Jewel and Jishu started working with me, I had passed through the "early-career" stage. I had clear research goals in mind, and was determined to pursue them systematically and in a focused way for the next few years. That is why, even as the pandemic raged and I was only able to meet my students online, I never had any doubt that both will finish successfully. In the case of Jishu, Baskar and I were co-advisors, and Baskar is a walking encyclopaedia on the topic. On their part, despite the difficulties of pandemic-induced isolation, both the students displayed a remarkable amount of resourcefulness and sincerity. We got used to discussing ideas and questions over long emails (and occasionally, long WhatsApp and text messages as well, a practice that I now strongly discourage in my students; WhatsApp and text messages are best used only for urgent communication). They took full advantage of several international conferences and seminars being held online, notwithstanding the late night hours in Indian Standard Time. Like any research project, our projects also experienced some turbulence from time to time, but it only made us more determined and excited to finish them. My work with Jewel led to a long article on a topic that has been of great interest to me, and has now appeared in the Journal of Number Theory [in fact, writing this paper has been a valuable academic experience, and some day, I am going to write a blog post exclusively about it]. Jishu has multiple papers under review, but here's something that makes me happy and proud: Student 2, Neha initiated a nice research project with him and their article has now appeared in the Journal of the Ramanujan Mathematical Society. 

I would like share a few reflections about PhD supervision.

1) Student first.

Student supervision is not exactly smooth. Since I live in Pune, I can't help but compare supervision to driving on rough roads full of new speed breakers (which weren't there yesterday), not to mention the change in the entire landscape due to the ongoing metro construction. Roadblocks can either occur due to difficulties in the projects, and or due to a complete contrast in the personalities and priorities of the mentor and the mentee. Since mentees in this case are adults with minds of their own, there will likely be many situations of disagreement, or when the student just refuses to act as per the expectations of the advisor (or vice versa). When ego issues find their way into this mix (a perfectly human thing to happen), it is easy to forget the overriding goal, namely the training of the student.

The role of the guide is to train the student, make the student aware of opportunities and "advise" the student about issues to which they have limited exposure. The key goal is to initiate the student into the scientific journey. But, at the end of the day, it is an advisory relationship where the student may have a different path in mind or a different style of traveling from what the guide may have envisioned. For example, the student may not be so keen on the research project that the guide has suggested, but may have built collaborative networks for a different project. Is the guide to be like a nagging/overbearing parent who insists that the student do everything exactly as they want? Or, is the chief guiding principle to be what is best for the student so that they get a degree and move on in life? 

The "nagging/overbearing" persona does have its advantages occasionally: it has to be turned on when the student is procrastinating before submitting something, not compiling their thesis in an acceptable format, or when their idea of preparing conference talks is to copy their papers onto slides (this is a perfectly natural thing to do for someone speaking on their work for the first time). How much and on what matters the guide is to persist depends on the situation at hand (will the student lose their fellowship or visa status if a document is not submitted on time?) and the level of awareness in the student (is the student mindful of the consequences of not submitting something on time, or not doing something carefully?) 

But, as a guide, the most important skill to practise is to tailor our reactions based on what is best for the student, namely that they get their degree along with the skills and expertise to move on. This is similar to dealing with the bumps, debris and traffic on Pune roads by remembering how our roads and public transport will eventually transform when the metro is fully operational. To carry the analogy further, do we want the PhD journey of a student to be like the metro (making progress and transforming Pune, day by day), like the failed BRTS project (took off, and then stalled), or even worse, the "proposed" Pune airport project at Purandar (which never seems to take off, even as multiple cities in India of all tiers get their own airports)?

2) Growing together.

The relationship between a mentor and mentee is that of synergy. We work towards a common goal, build ideas together and bring complementary skills into a project. The outcome is as significant for the student as it is for the advisor, even though the consequences for the student may be more evident. Every project that I have finished with a student initiates the student into a new research theme and questions that they may choose to focus on in their initial days before eventually developing their own vision. But, it also adds a new dimension to my own research programme. Many colleagues and friends assign a PhD problem to their student independent of their own research goals, and let the student take it forward on their own with some guidance. Perhaps, I may do this in the future. But, at this time, I find myself heavily invested in the projects of each of my students; I assign problems to my students that I've been thinking about myself. These problems have been of great importance and relevance to my core research programme. At a deeply personal level, each successful project that leads to a PhD not only opens a path for the student, but also renews my faith in larger goals. As such, we both become a part of each other's journey of growth.

3) Sincerity and mental flexibility matter the most.

All my students have very different personalities. Each has their defining strength, and looking back, I can now see how the specific strength of each student is demonstrated in their work. Each student also has their own struggles, and I have faced unique challenges in each relationship. Some students may demonstrate more creativity in their work. Some are willing to jump right into a problem, while others may need a little prodding in this direction. Some are extremely thorough with each aspect of their writing, while some like to get their work out as quickly as possible, and have to be gently encouraged to put more care into proofreading. Sometimes, the same student is very thoughtful while writing a paper, but not so while preparing a talk, or vice versa. Some can work on multiple aspects of a project at the same time, while some do much better focusing on one part at a time. 

So, the other day,  I tried to "rank" what qualities or strengths are most desirable in a student, or what "weaknesses" are the "least desirable". I could only come up with one conclusion: as long as the student is sincere about their work, has the flexibility to accept feedback and believes the guide to be squarely on their side, every attribute falls into place. 

Sincerity in both the guide and the student is a vital part of the PhD journey. The student's sincerity manifests in their willingness to work, and the guide's sincerity manifests in them contributing wholeheartedly to the student's growth. This makes the interaction meaningful, pleasant and forward-looking, even with all the personality foibles. A trust develops that has the potential of surviving (and even flowering) through the years ahead. 

In essence, what made each advisory relationship successful was the love for mathematics in each student and the fundamental willingness of each student to work hard and improve themselves through feedback. My eldest two students are now my friends: I feel happy when they make an effort to keep me updated about their professional journeys or when they reach out for advice. I have received valuable advice from them as well. Now that the youngest two have graduated, I hope that they will also see me as their lifelong cheerleader and well-wisher. Further, with every new student I supervise, I hope to become a better mathematician and a better human being.

It takes a village ...

 “Young, very enthusiastic, naïve, slightly tense students arrived when it was pouring [rain] in 2006 ….  It was a tough task as a warden for me to think about their well being, to think about their welfare.  At the same time, the students had lots of expectations, lots of aspirations.  We had to meet their demands, their expectations, their standards.”

This is how my colleague Dr. Ramakrishna G. Bhat describes the incoming students of the very first batch at IISER Pune.

Students are the heart of our campus.  The image of the proverbial ``ivory tower” professor, fashionably buried in their own work with little time or concern for students is largely down-voted by faculty at IISER Pune.  It is a different matter that students can be a handful, meeting their expectations (especially non-academic!) can be a rough ride and we don’t always succeed, but then, who wants easy?

Ramakrishna Bhat was the first faculty member to join IISER Pune after the director, Professor K.N. Ganesh.  On joining, he was allotted the enormous task of setting up a hostel for the incoming 2006 batch.  This (temporary) hostel was to be created in a 30-year old abandoned building near NCL.  It was renovated at a feverish pace in about 15 days [1] and the first batch of our MS students walked into their residence in August 2006.  Ramakrishna and Professor G. Ambika (currently, dean of graduate studies) wholeheartedly threw themselves into the job of making these students feel at home.  They both stayed in the hostel for the first three and a half years. Be it holding tutorials in the dining hall (drawing chemical chain reactions on the menu board), handling frantic midnight requests to investigate stolen buckets or even waking up sleepy students for morning exams, they have done it all. 

Everything was all set to get even more chaotic with the admission of the 2007 and 2008 batches.  Sutirth Dey and Shouvik Datta joined the team of wardens and were responsible for the 2007 and 2008 batches respectively.  In order to accommodate the growing community of students, the institute was left with no option but to hire bungalows or apartments in the Baner and Pashan areas.  2008 was particularly tricky.   When Shouvik joined the Physics group in July 2008, he also took charge of the 2008 batch.  One of his earliest experiences was a crisis created by a last minute cancelation of living arrangements that had been planned for students.  A frenzied search yielded a bungalow (owned by Nana Patekar no less!) on Sus Road and some apartments in a building on the Baner Pashan Link Road.  Just a day or so before the students arrived, Shouvik went to check out these dwellings and found himself arranging beds in one of them along with the director! 

More colourful experiences were to follow. On Day 1, Shouvik had to go to all the buildings where students were staying and hire autorickshaws to get them to the dining hall located at NCL.  Gradually, he got used to regular phone calls at 1 am from security guards at these apartment complexes regarding noisy students.  Sometimes, he would personally have to visit to get stubborn students to climb off water tanks on the terrace (didn’t I say that our students are a handful?)  Another regular problem he would have to handle was when the other residents of these buildings would get annoyed and turn off water connections to the student apartments [2]. 

Soon, the chaos subsided.  A serious problem was about commuting between their apartments, academic buildings and dining hall.  This was resolved by hiring/purchasing an adequate number of buses.  The IISER bus network has served the community very well.  In an institute where the hostel(s), dining hall, classrooms and labs were far apart, these buses served as a lifeline.  They also provided a safe and convenient commute to our students if they wished to spend an evening in Pune main city. Until we became a fully residential campus, almost at any time of the day, two kinds of buses would be seen regularly on Dr. Homi Bhabha Road: buses from the National Defence Academy and from IISER.

Even after the most important logistical issues were taken care of, the “lighter” complaints were treated with utmost seriousness.  Once, when students complained that the chapatis in the dining hall were not as soft and round as what they had at home, the wardens held an emergency meeting with the purchase section to order roti makers!

In those years, a lot of energy also had to be expended towards “parenting the parents,” that is, allaying the apprehensions and fears of parents.  Their children were walking into uncharted territory: until 2011, it was not clear what they would be able to do with an IISER education.  Moreover, they had to drop their children off at buildings scattered all over Baner instead of a proper hostel.  In those days, the director and other leaders would regularly have long meetings with parents to assure them that their children were in safe hands.  Occasionally, there would be comical situations with the “don’t-you-know-who-I- am-my-kid-will-not-stay-here-one-more-minute” parents, but even they were tackled with tact and grace. 

Taking care of students is no joke.  On one hand, one has to implement hostel rules and oversee discipline issues.  On the other hand, one needs to be friends with them and guide them.  In the early years, the job got compounded because very few people had to take care of a large number of issues.  Two or three wardens would oversee a lot of things including hostel life, meals, transport, sports, recreation, discipline, health and mental wellbeing of students.  Loss of personal space, occasional frustration and overwhelm come with this territory.  Our leadership and the wardens took it in their stride, bade goodbye to personal egos and did their best.  It also helped that the administration was friendly, supportive and ready to work well beyond office hours [3].

This reminds me of an incident a few years ago: I was at a different institute then and had never visited IISER Pune.  One day, I wrote a somewhat helpless, somewhat miffed post about my wardenship duties there, whether I was any good at it and whether this job was of any use whatsoever.  A student from the 2007 batch at IISER Pune (who had graduated by the time my blog post appeared) wrote back a gentle rebuke and mentioned how hard his warden, Sutirth Dey, had worked for these students and how much of a lasting impact he had made on them!

As of today, our student hostels tower over the IISER campus.  When guardians arrive to drop off their freshmen wards, they encounter an elaborately built residential area with two tall buildings right next to a dining hall, a medical clinic with an ambulance on standby, a helpful hostel administration and decent security arrangements, not to mention a unified campus.  After students check in, they head towards our auditorium in the academic area for a welcome meeting with the dean of graduate studies, COSA (Committee of Student Activities: a team of seven faculty members who take care of student issues outside of the classroom), the dining committee members and our team of counselors.  We take great pride in conveying to these freshmen (and their parents) that there is a proper system to take care of every aspect of their life on campus.  The task of running this system is shared by a large number of people.  It is a reasonably decentralized, efficient system that gets better each year [4].  There are separate teams of people to look after different requirements so that no one person gets overwhelmed.  But, it took a lot of sweat and tears to raise this village that now raises the child!

On their part, the students have done every bit to deserve this and more [5].  There will be a future post on how proud they have made us.  Meanwhile, you may enjoy this blog with some awesome IISER alumni stories.




[1] The story of how the IISERs were visualized and started in a couple of months is a fascinating story (with enough thriller effect) narrated in this video by the planners themselves.  Important decisions were taken just days before the first session started and this meant that a lot of things were done at the last moment. 

[2] The tolerance of “housing societies” of Pune is world-famous. 

[3] After having visited or stayed at multiple institutes in India and after interacting with colleagues at many others, I realize that this is something to be truly grateful for!

[4] and many people in the admin office still work beyond office hours!

[5] though they are still a handful :)

On motivation and competence

A commenter to the previous blog post, Aravind asks the following question:

“From my experience of a KVPY interview, I understand that you look for motivation in candidates. How do you assess motivation? How much of it figures in the final score? And what about competence?”

Motivation and competence are strongly related. A high score on a school board exam displays a certain level of understanding of textbook content. But a competent student doesn’t just work to score high marks: she will spend time in thinking about what she learnt, would seek conceptual understanding over a mechanical one and will keep practicing an idea beyond what textbook exercises demand. This competence can only be developed if the student is motivated enough to think of the subject as something exciting and not something on a “to-do” list [1]. Regarding your other question of how one assesses these qualities, I am afraid there is no standard procedure: otherwise we would have coaching institutes training students for these interviews as well [assuming they don’t already exist].

If other readers of the blog have a more substantial answer to Aravind’s query, comments would be highly appreciated!

[1] I am not discounting the competence required to approach a to-do list in an organized manner and accomplish all items in it in a timely manner!

The wake up call

[Received an email yesterday and am producing it here with the writer's permission.]

Hi,

I went to some links from your weekend reading list and found a post by Xykademiqz very interesting.  It brought back some memories.

I was a PhD student in a computational field in the late 1990s.  My advisor's lab was in the process of getting new computers.  This left several huge desks unoccupied for a few weeks. One day, during an extended weekend, I dutifully went to the lab and started playing Solitaire.  I don’t know what came over me, but before I knew it, I had climbed on one of those inviting, big desks and dozed off.  Much to my shock, my advisor also decided to come in that day and I woke up to find her staring at me.  She was visibly upset, but didn’t say much and simply asked me about a manuscript that we were working on.  I quickly printed out a rough draft of about 25 pages.  The manuscript had a mistake in the first sentence itself  - she took a quick look and immediately tossed it into a recycle bin.  “I would like to see a version which was written while you were awake,” she said. 

Although I did feel guilty at being caught in a “compromised” position, I felt hurt that she threw away the whole manuscript due to one mistake. 

“How dare she insult me? I will make her regret this.”

“So what if I was caught napping. At least, I showed up on a holiday.”

"Maybe I was unwell. She didn't even bother asking."

I walked out burning in shame and anger and cursed her (in my mind) for not recognizing and appreciating the genius I was. I did not speak to her for the next few days, not that she was bothered. I resolved to work again on the manuscript and show her a perfect version the next time.  I also thought I would tell her how much her acerbic remarks had hurt me and would demand an apology. 

As I started going through the paper, I realized that it was full of serious mistakes: it did, in fact, look like the work of a half-asleep mind.  This was a wake-up call.  All these days, I had thought of myself as this super-intelligent and perfect person who would soon dazzle the world with great discoveries.  I had been careless in writing things up and did not bother to proof read, delegating that task to her!  But, she made it absolutely clear that she would not look at it unless I did a professional job with it.  I jumped into it with complete seriousness this time.  I wrote and rewrote all the new results in as clear a manner I could, rearranged the data from top to bottom, did a proper literature survey and placed the work in the right context. I went through the sections time and again to detect any error, technical or typographical. 

After a month, the paper was ready to be shown to her.  By then, I had given up all thoughts of demanding any apology.  I started feeling a bit obliged for the timely wake up call.  This time, her reaction to the paper was completely different.  She appreciated the work, praised it during the next lab meeting and suggested immediate submission with me as the single author.

It is my proudest moment, ever.

Happy one month!

I have now completed a month at IISERP.  Apart from some delays in arrival of my household luggage from IISERK and acquiring internet connection at home, the transition has been very smooth.  Well equipped office space was alloted to me on Day 1, administrative joining-in formalities were done promptly, I found a suitable apartment [1] and got a new car on Day 2 and started driving practice immediately thereafter [2].  While I waited for my luggage etc to arrive from N1, I enjoyed the warm hospitality at my favourite guest house.

My colleague, Prof. Sunil Mukhi, who joined a couple of months ago, summarizes his impressions of IISERP very well in this post and I couldn't agree more.

Here are some things that I like most about my new workplace:

1) The Mathematics group, of which I am a member, is fairly well staffed.  Other than a comfortable teaching load, this ensures that committee work and other responsibilities get evenly distributed among all members.  So, while a couple of colleagues can focus on, say, building the course curriculum, some others can take care of student counseling etc.  One group takes care of seminars etc and another takes care of library matters pertaining to Mathematics.  We even have a Happiness Committee which organizes regular get-togethers to facilitate interaction between faculty and students.  I will write later about the responsibilities given to me.

2) We have a separate course structure for PhD students.  Mathematics graduate students need more course preparation than other STEM fields and we have the requisite courses to offer to our students.  My student seems to be benefiting from this a lot.  While he has started work on his PhD project, he is taking some core foundational courses that he had missed out before.

3) My colleagues, including the senior ones, across all STEM fields, are in general, very friendly and approachable.  This is totally not meant as a complaint, but it took me a lot of time to make friends in my former workplace.  For months, I went to the office, did my work and came back home without talking to anyone.  It was more common there for people from the same grad school to hang out together.
By contrast, over here, it is impossible to be left alone in a corner while having lunch at the faculty lounge.  Even if people come in groups, they reach out and talk to others on the table.  I like that very much.







[1] "Suitable" is an understatement!  This apartment is a dream.  The kitchen itself is bigger than the biggest room of my previous dwelling!

Are you a student?

I often get mistaken for a student.  Almost always, it leads to hilarious situations.

When I was interviewed at N1, some people asked a colleague who was showing me around if I was her student.  The guest house in charge was very concerned at my being the only person staying in the guest house at that time and told my colleague, "She is very young. She might get scared."

When I joined N1, many people assumed that my father is a new faculty member and I am just following him.  When he accompanied me to some offices, the office assistants passed the forms to him and started explaining to him how to fill them up! (therefore, I have requested him not to accompany me when I join New1, and even when he does visit me there, he will be asked to stay away from the office premises.)

When I was asked to become warden of the girls hostel, some students asked my domestic help (who also works at the institute) about me.  She apparently replied, "Woh toh khud bachchi hai, aur ladkiyon ko kya sambhalegi!" [Translation: She herself is a girl. How will she take care of other girls?]  By the way, it did not take the students, guards and house keeping staff long to figure out that I was not a "bachchi"!

Every once in a while, students come into my office and ask me when Dr NPNI will be back! [1]   Every year, I meet a couple of new students  who start off by calling me "didi."

However,  the frequency of such incidents has decreased, especially since I drastically upgraded my wardrobe.

Recently, another such situation presented itself.  While attending a conference last week, I was having dinner with a senior colleague, when a young PhD student joined us.  The senior colleague introduced us to each other by our names.
Student asked me where I am from and on hearing my answer, asked me what research area I work in.  After that, he continued the conversation with senior colleague.

A couple of days later, this student walked into an office in which I was using a desk reserved for visitors.  I was preparing some lectures for my course.  He had come to talk to a faculty colleague at New1 who sits in that office.  Here's how the conversation went:

Student (to me): Hi! What's up? How come you are here?

New1 Colleague: She is using every spare minute to prepare her course lectures.

Student(to me, looking surprised): Oh, are you faculty? I did not know that.

New1 Colleague: Yes.  She is currently a faculty member at N1 and is joining us next semester.

Student: Cool. I had no idea.

NPNI: (Smiles, and thinks "I thought as much!")

Later, in the course of his conversation with New1 Colleague, I heard this student asking very demanding questions like, "How come this work had not been done before? What was your motivation in working on it?"  I rolled my eyes and thought "Poor kid! He will grow up soon enough!"[2]


Next morning, as I flew back to N1 city with a colleague from another place, I narrated this incident to her and asked if she knew whose student this person was.
My colleague laughed back, "He is not a student.  He is a faculty member at -----Institute!"



[1] One student even asked me, "Are you Dr NPNI's secretary?"  I was almost flattered that he thought I was important enough to have a secretary.
[2] Haven't we all said stupid things to profs when we were students? 

When students run the show

The last few weeks have seen a wonderful improvement in my relationship with students in the capacity of hostel warden.  I actually don't mind being a warden anymore, even though this year I will be responsible for a hostel with 120 students, both men and women.  I am happy to meet students when they come to my office or when they stop to talk to me in corridors.

This is due to various reasons.  Firstly, the institute now invites student representatives to certain committee meetings which involve their life on campus.
In these meetings, students are encouraged to speak up and share their viewpoint.
But, most importantly, by being part of the discussion, they become aware of the constraints under which the institute is functioning and why their demands cannot be immediately met.  They understand the working of institutional procedures and realize why certain things cannot be done overnight.  As a result of it all,  the warden is not seen as a bad cop any longer (at least, I hope that s/he is not!) [1]

Secondly, I now follow the policy of transparency with students in my hostel.
Whenever any complaint has to be forwarded to different sections, I cc the email to the student representative.  If they come to my office to ask why a certain decision has been taken, I tell them the reason instead of meaningless references to "instructions from the authority."

For example, last week, a section of PhD students, accosted me after a seminar to demand why they are not being alloted single rooms despite repeated promises made to them about it.  "We lose our HRA to live on campus, but are treated like undergraduate students.  Is this fair?"  I was a little annoyed at being questioned in this way.  At the moment, N1 does not offer hostel accommodation to its PhD students because of space constraints [2].  However, we try to provide hostel seats for them if space is left after accommodating our undergraduate students.  As this entails losing their HRA, very few students have opted for it and on this account, they naturally feel upset with the hostel wardens for not providing them single seater rooms.  I took the students to my office and showed them the data about incoming  students.  After that, I showed them our allotment charts and convinced them that single seater rooms are not possible unless we turn some rooms into cramped three-seaters.  As a result, the students understood the reason why we cannot meet their demands and we parted on a friendly note.

The delay in the construction of our permanent hostel complex (for reasons completely beyond our control, as the students now realize) also results in students moving between the available hostels every year (due to changes in numbers of men and women).  As warden, I have had to organize two such moves.  The move last year upset many of the women students because they had to move from a building close to the academic area to a building far away.  There was also some confusion because the security guards insisted on searching their baggage before they left a hostel and the vehicle helping them to move was too small (and in between the move, the driver suddenly went away for lunch, leaving the students stranded for a long time).  I was inundated with angry phone calls all through the day.  The students also had to face many problems in the first few days of their move to the new hostel.  For a long time, many of these students even refused to speak to me!

However, the same students happily cooperated with us in orchestrating another move.  Although the students had been warned about their impending move, due to some logistical reasons, we had to shift the dates a little.  As a result, this move happened while most students were away.  However, the student hostel representative got in touch with them, informed them about the move and explained to them the reason behind the shift in dates.

This time, the registrar's office was kind enough to provide me with the assistance of two office staff members who coordinated the move.  These assistant wardens first ensured that the hostel to which the students were moving was in a livable condition.  They got all the rooms thoroughly cleaned up and the electricity fitments inspected and repaired.  Many of the students were away on vacation, but had packed their items properly before leaving.  Under the supervision of the assistant wardens, the housekeeping staff properly labeled all the boxes and also packed the items which had been left unpacked by students.  We hired a truck, which transferred all the items in a couple of rides (and therefore, students did not have to wait for hours for the institute vehicle driver to return from his long lunch!)

The student representative was pro-active in coordinating the whole move along with the assistant wardens.  Incidentally, on the day of their move, I was traveling for a conference to a different city.  I only received two phone calls on that day - one to inform me that the move had begun and the other to inform me that it was over.  Both the AWs were highly appreciative of the student representative's presence of mind and involvement.

To conclude, I have learnt that the relation between faculty and students can immensely improve if students are kept informed about institute policies, treated like responsible adults and encouraged to take initiatives to solve their problems.  I have always admired students at N1 for staying happy in spite of the difficulties that they have seen here, but their involvement with the institute makes things even better.





[1] Last year, I heard, through "anonymous sources" in the hostel that many students were under the impression that I was against providing regular bus services to them between their hostel and academic buildings.  This is of course far from the truth.  I hope that this misinformation has been quelled due to the presence of our student representative in the transport committee.  After attending this meeting, she is aware of the limited vehicles at our disposal and how bus routing has to be optimized.


[2] These space constraints will vanish once our permanent hostel building will be ready in a few months.