Question 1: What one would wish for most high school students--not only in mathematics but also in languages and history and science and writing--would require such behavior changes by students, their parents, school administrators, and others as to be unrealistic (at least in U.S. schools) and likely vigorously opposed. I am afraid old fashioned ideas like a chewy common curriculum for all students, very few electives, lots of homework daily, not squandering one's teen years as a MacDonald's employee, and real standards which sometimes say, "Sorry, your performance is inadequate here" are not broadly popular.

Our current societal emphasis that everyone "feel good" right now about what they are doing is in opposition to the reality that thinking/learning is hard work and that true rewards frequently are very distant. Human beings have long gestation periods: nine months in the womb, 18 to 20 years at the hearth, and maybe another 20 years before they are economically secure in this complex culture. Our schools do not take that into account, allowing students to make superficial choices that close off future options and sending students forth unaware of their limitations to grow and function in our increasingly brainpower dependent world.

Question 5: Entering the Jesuit seminary after high school could have put an end to my studying mathematics except for the priest-chair of the Spring Hill College mathematics department (Everett Larguier) who offered a direct vote of confidence: "I want you to be a math major." I have thought many times that we need to be more like Larguier when dealing with capable undergraduates. A great boost came from the wonderful faculty at Marquette University, especially Miriam Connellan who ran the 1966 NSF [National Science Foundation] summer institute for high school teachers and Clem Hanneken who hired me as a lecturer in my first post-seminary year. I loved college teaching and debated among mathematics, law, and philosophy for doctoral study. A physician friend in Milwaukee said one Sunday afternoon: be special; be a mathematician. So it was on to a Ph.D. at Texas, then bouncing around for two years during the last great job crunch (1974) until meeting Ron Davis at Northern Virginia Community College who became a wonderful mentor in what turned out to be my transition to community college teaching and administration. In retrospect, it is clear key people at critical moments made the difference: people I liked and trusted and who were interested in me, wonderful students, the collegial atmosphere of higher education. It is sobering to realize how important these short and at the time seemingly casual exchanges were in guiding me to where I now am. There is a lesson here for us as we try to cultivate the next generation of mathematicians.