Sunday, July 28, 2013

Igniting Youthful Interest in Science and Technology

Bringing out minority youths' Hidden Genius

July 28, 2013
On Friday morning, a group of black teenage boys sat around
a conference-room table in North Beach,
MacBook Airs open, as they debated the
best way to code the Fibonacci Sequence.
It's a classic problem of computer science,
figuring out an algorithm that spits out
a series of numbers generated by adding up
the two preceding ones: 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8,
13, 21 and so on.
The lesson wasn't simply designed to teach
the high school students the Python
programming language they were working in.
It was calibrated to get them to think logically,
so that they can eventually work in any
 language.
Their mentor, developer and entrepreneur
Kurt Collins, guided the discussion with a 
delicate blend of sarcasm, wit and tough love.
At one point he made Johnnel White, going into
his sophomore year at Vallejo High School, 
erase the formula he'd carefully transcribed
from his laptop onto the whiteboard.
"If you understand the logic, you don't have to
memorize it," he said.
The students are members of the Hidden Genius
Project, an initiative formed last year by nine
technology professionals, nonprofit executives
and teachers who wanted to steer more minorities
into the growing and often lucrative industry.
Use the link above to read more about this
education offering for teenagers.  But now,
back to the problem:
Let's have the Haggin Museum docents and 
friends consider the implications here, then 
we'll take a stab at the problem.  John Dierking
could probably weigh in on this too.
Solving the problem:
To create a program that produces the Fibonacci
series of numbers, advise your teenagers that they 
should always ask a question like this of their 
programming instructors.  "What should our 
program OUTPUT look like?"  The output is simply 
a printout of the results after the program runs 
and finally arrives at the step to print out a sheet 
of numbers.  You'd be surprised how some 
instructors forget to tell you what output is desirable 
as the final product.  Let's assume that we want 
a sheet of printed numbers like the one above:
0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21 and so on.  Or, printed 
vertically down the page as we will choose to do here.
In programming languages, your student is allowed 
to "declare a variable".  This puts a God-like power 
in your student because a student can simply say, 
"The variable X now exists!"  or "The variable, 
RESULT, now exists!"  Let's continue with RESULT.  
If you say RESULT exists, it therefore does exist 
simply because you said so!  In a running program, 
the human speaks commands to the machine, 
sort of like this.  "I have written the command,  
RESULT=0."  The machine responds, upon reading 
your command, by reserving a place in its memory 
called RESULT.  It stays silently hidden from view
in the memory and carries a value of 0  (zero).  
Now let's try to imagine the program as it might look 
while actually working:
FIRST NUMBER = 0
SECOND NUMBER = 1
RESULT = FIRST NUMBER + SECOND NUMBER
(Notice here that we just created a variable called 
RESULT simply by saying that it's name is RESULT 
and that it has a value equal to 0+1,  which is 1.)
PRINTOUT FIRST NUMBER    (a zero gets printed)
PRINTER GO TO THE NEXT BLANK LINE DOWN 
AND WAIT
PRINTOUT SECOND NUMBER    (a 1 gets printed)   
Now we'll skip the commands to the printer and 
assume we go down a line after each number is printed,
otherwise it's tedious to say all that here.  Look back 
at the Fibonacci numbers to realize that we are trying 
to make the machine work its way from left to right 
and also actively create the next rung in its left to right,
increasing, ladder.
FIRST NUMBER =SECOND NUMBER  
(FIRST NUMBER is now 1 and no longer zero)
RESULT = FIRST NUMBER + SECOND NUMBER
so RESULT is now 2.          (1 +1=2)
FIRST NUMBER = SECOND NUMBER   (1 is still 1)
SECOND NUMBER = RESULT  (SECOND 
NUMBER now 2)
RESULT = FIRST NUMBER + SECOND NUMBER  
or 1+2=3)         RESULT has a value of 3.
FIRST NUMBER=SECOND NUMBER  
( FIRST becomes 2)
SECOND NUMBER = RESULT  (Second is now 3)

RESULT = FIRST NUMBER + SECOND NUMBER 
(Test this as, 2 +3=5            RESULT now equals 5.
FIRST NUMBER = SECOND NUMBER    
(FIRST is now 3)
SECOND NUMBER = RESULT  
(SECOND NUMBER now 5)
RESULT = FIRST NUMBER + SECOND NUMBER    
or 3+5=8)         RESULT has a value of 8.
FIRST NUMBER=SECOND NUMBER   
( FIRST becomes 5)
SECOND NUMBER = RESULT   (8)

RESULT = FIRST NUMBER + SECOND NUMBER 
(Test this as, 5 +8=13     RESULT now equals 13.
This process then continues to infinity  or until 
your printer runs out of ink or paper.  
The clever younger programmer can then add a few
twists to this.  Once he learns how to declare a 
DOWHILE loop, he can command the computer 
to stop this endless process once some kind of 
"counter" variable reaches or exceeds "one thousand" 
printed numbers or some such limit. That way, 
it reaches a stopping point and you won't have to 
pull the plug on your runaway computer.  In coding 
the above example, it becomes clear that it is possible 
to make errors in logic because the variables 
are constantly changing chameleon-like or 
like some Cheshire Cat.  
The "I'm not there anymore" quality of the variables 
can cause you to lose your way, so concentration is 
very necessary.  You can also compress this process 
by looping back after RESULT is made and go back 
to the top of the sequence and proceed through again. 
This saves on a lot of typing at the keyboard. 
Might as well invent some shortcuts!  Finally, computer programming 
teachers will advise the young 
programmer to "de-bug" your 
program by 
stepping through it with a note pad and 
writing down 
the numbers just to see that they change as you 
want them to.  Okay, that's enough demonstrating 
for now.  
Encouraging Your Student
First, it is sometimes necessary to inform 
middle-school and high-school students about 
computer programming and how to approach it 
as a subject.  Tell students that computer 
programming IS NOT math.  Even if it can be used 
to solve math problems, programming is more
a skill and even a craft involving logical thinking, 
organizing and some visual presentation craft.
It is a subject that both boys and girls can become 
excited about once they realize that it becomes 
fun to do and work to complete programs.
One metaphor that can describe programming 
is that of putting an electric train down on a hard floor.  
You lay down tracks for the train to follow.  
In a program, you lay down a track for the computer 
to follow, doing one step after another.  Train sets 
can have other tracks on the side or even inside 
loops of tracks which can be constructed within 
the larger layout.  Programming languages have 
entire lexicons of commands allowing you to 
make use of pre-constructed "tools" that perform 
work in your programs. Students can become 
excited to see how many tricks they can perform.  
If you discover an error in the above logic, 
by all means post your comment to advise of the error.  

Saturday, July 13, 2013

Massive Wild West Collection of Artifacts To Go On Auction Block Monday July 15

Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, Wild West collection faces auction hammer

By Michael Sadowski
Harrisburg, Pennsylvania (Reuters) - Thousands of Wild Westartifacts, collected by a former mayor for a museum that never materialized, will be auctioned off next week by the capital city of Pennsylvania to help pay down more than $300 million in debt.
The long-awaited auction is part of Harrisburg's efforts to recoup some of the city funds spent by former Mayor Stephen Reed to acquire the rare artifacts for a tourist-drawing Wild West museum. Featuring items ranging from the very valuable to knick-knacks, it is scheduled to start Monday and continue through the week.
Arlan Ettinger, president of Guernsey's auction house in New York City, said the sale was the largest of its kind. "I've said it a few times, that it's the largest auction of Wild West items ever, and no one has challenged me on it," he said. "So we're sticking with it."
Joanne Grant, the auctioneer who cataloged each item, said about 6,700 people had signed up to bid online(www.proxibid.com). By Monday, she said, that number could be as high as 10,000. That does not include people who will be at the live auction at Harrisburg's City Island from Monday through July 21.
Bidders will see a warehouse packed to the rafters with vintage Wild West artifacts and other items related to the 19th Century conquest of the American West and figures like Buffalo Bill Cody, Wyatt Earp, Jesse James and Doc Holliday.
There also are artifacts from Native American tribes, a collection of pieces relating to the Battle of Little Big Horn and more than 500 vintage firearms, as well as a Stetson hat belonging to former President Lyndon B. Johnson.
Other historical items to go on the block include Teddy Roosevelt's three-barreled rifle, hand-written notes from George Washington and John Hancock and the uniform worn by General George Patton in World War Two.
Arnold Duke, owner of the Ruidoso River Museum in Ruidoso, New Mexico, flew to Pennsylvania for last week's public preview and was flabbergasted at the selection.
"The collection is vast. It's staggering," he said. "It would have made an incredible museum. I'm not sure the best place for it was Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, but it would have been impressive."
Reed's huge collection was stored in warehouses at the Harrisburg Department of Public Works.
The auction is not expected to solve Harrisburg's massive debt problem, caused by a costly and mismanaged incinerator project. Ettinger, the auctioneer, would not say how much he believed the collection to be worth. What it can bring is an end to the long-debated Wild West museum idea.
"It will be closure for a lot of people for a project they never really understood," said Brian Enterline, 38, a Harrisburg collector who viewed the selection on Thursday. "By next week, hopefully we can all put this behind us and focus on moving the city forward."
(Reporting by Michael Sadowski; Editing by Arlene Getz and Dan Grebler)

Saturday, June 22, 2013

History With A San Francisco and Stockton Connection

Unpretentious spot with a gory history

Published 8:33 pm, Friday, June 14, 2013
  • An undated picture shows two muzzle-loading dueling pistols believed to be the weapons used in the famous, if pointless, Broderick-Terry duel. Photo: Associated Press
    An undated picture shows two muzzle-loading dueling pistols believed to be the weapons used in the famous, if pointless, Broderick-Terry duel. Photo: Associated Press
One of San One of San Francisco's more surreal historic sites is actually located a few yards beyond the city limits, near the southern end of Lake Merced in Daly City.
Down a little dead-end street, near an unexpected gated community and just beyond a forlorn picnic area, there's a small ravine. In this obscure spot, at 7 a.m. on Sept. 13, 1859, the chief justice of California, David Terry, shot and mortally wounded U.S. Sen. David Broderick in a duel.
Two old stone obelisks mark where the antagonists stood, terrifyingly close to each other - the site of one of California's most pointless tragedies.
The death - some called it murder - of David Broderick felt disturbingly preordained.
San Franciscans talked about the likelihood that he would be killed long before he actually was. Broderick himself was aware of his impending doom: Six months before Terry shot him, as he was leaving Washington to return to California, he told a friend, "I feel, my dear friend, I go home to die. I shall be challenged, I shall fight, and I shall be killed."
Yet, with an inevitability that recalls Greek tragedy, the 39-year-old senator did nothing to avert his doom.

Irish roots

Broderick was the kind of San Franciscan found throughout the city's political history. The son of a stonecutter, he grew up in the tough Irish neighborhoods of New York City, where he learned to play hardball Tammany Hall politics. Drawn by gold fever to San Francisco in 1849, shrewd and ambitious, he quickly became the city's political boss - mastering the arts of patronage and strong-arming.
By 1857, Broderick had maneuvered his way to a seat in the U.S. Senate, where he became an outspoken opponent of slavery.
Terry was also a classic San Francisco character, but of a type that did not endure.
In the city's early years, its "better classes" were dominated by Southerners, many of whom regarded New York Irish like Broderick as lower-class rabble and subscribed to a code of honor under which duels were an acceptable means of righting a personal wrong.
Terry himself was a veritable caricature of a proud, thin-skinned Southerner. The Texas native stood 6-foot-6 and weighed 250 pounds, and claimed to have killed a Mexican officer during the Texas Revolution with a bowie knife to the heart. The claim is dubious - Terry was 13 years old when Texas fought its war for independence - but his later career was filled with more than enough bloodshed to make up for that stretcher.
In one infamous incident, Terry stabbed a man in the neck, later shouting that it was outrageous that someone of his stature should be arrested "merely for sticking a knife into a damn little Yankee well-borer."
He came to California in 1849, established a law practice in Stockton and was elected to the state Supreme Court in 1855. Two years later, he became chief justice.
Chief Justice David Terry killed his rival. Photo: Anonymous, ASSOCIATED PRESS


Promoting slavery

Terry was a member of the so-called "Chivalry Democrats," derisively called the "Chivs" by their opponents. As the country was convulsed by the issue of slavery, Terry and his fellow "Chivs" were determined that California would become a slave state.
That put Terry on a collision course with Broderick, and eventually he lashed out at the senator in a speech. Terry said his political enemies were "the followers of one man, the personal chattels of an individual whom they are ashamed of" - Broderick.
Broderick was breakfasting at the International Hotel in San Francisco when he read what Terry had said. Ashen with rage, Broderick shouted, "I have said that I consider Terry the only honest man on the Supreme bench, but I now take it all back!"
When Terry got wind of what the senator had said, he immediately challenged him to a duel. Broderick, who had had time to reflect, now decided that he was the target of a political plot, and declined the challenge on the grounds that he was engaged in an election campaign.

Persistent challenger

But Terry was determined to fight Broderick. As one historian put it, "For the next three months, Terry stalked Broderick as a hunter pursues a stag."
He announced his intention to challenge his enemy again as soon as the election ended. And Broderick, unwilling to "dishonor" himself, depressed and reportedly ill with pneumonia, acquiesced like a lamb going to the slaughter. When Terry challenged him again, he accepted.
Terry, Broderick, their seconds and 80 spectators met at a dairy farm near Lake Merced. The weapons were two Belgian pistols.
Terry had been practicing with the guns for two months. The distance was 10 paces. When the call "fire one" was given, Broderick raised his gun, but his shot went into the ground. At "fire two," Terry took careful aim and shot Broderick through the chest.
The senator collapsed and was carried to the Haskell House at Fort Mason, where he died three days later. (The house still stands at the foot of Franklin Street.)
The fatal encounter turned Broderick into a martyr and made a pariah of Terry. In an ending that also seems preordained, Terry himself was shot to death near Stockton by the bodyguard of a U.S. Supreme Court justice in 1889. Terry had been feuding with the justice, and a chance encounter in a train station led to a violent confrontation and Terry's demise.

Dueling out of favor

The San Francisco tragedy's only positive outcome was that it spelled the end of dueling in California. Broderick's death turned popular sentiment against the practice, and the Legislature eventually outlawed it.

Editor's note

Every corner in San Francisco has an astonishing story to tell. Every Saturday, Gary Kamiya's "Portals of the Past" will tell one of those lost stories, using a specific location to illuminate San Francisco's extraordinary history - from the days when giant mammoths wandered through what is now North Beach, to the Gold Rush delirium, the dot-com madness and beyond.

Trivia time

Last week's trivia question was: What animal-related incident factored heavily in the creation of Golden Gate Park?
Answer: Inhospitable sand dunes were the biggest obstacle to creating the park. When a horse's feedbag of barley spilled and quickly sprouted, workers realized they could use barley to stabilize the sand.
This week's trivia question: At the very end of the Beatles' last concert, on Aug. 29, 1966, at Candlestick Park, John Lennon teasingly played the opening bars of what song?
Gary Kamiya is a freelance writer and Bay Area native. His new book, "Cool Gray City of Love: 49 Views of San Francisco," will be published by Bloomsbury in August. E-mail:metro@sfchronicle.com

Sunday, June 9, 2013

Richard Diebenkorn's Exhibit Coming Soon

Seawall, 1957
Richard Diebenkorn, Seawall, 1957. Oil on canvas, 20 x 26 inches. Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco, gift of Phyllis G. Diebenkorn, 1995.96 © 2013 The Richard Diebenkorn Foundation

Richard Diebenkorn: The Berkeley Years, 1953–1966

HERBST EXHIBITION GALLERIES
June 22, 2013 - September 29, 2013
This exhibition will examine one of the most complex periods in the distinguished career of Richard Diebenkorn, exploring his shifting conceptions of abstraction and figuration through 131 paintings and works on paper, and emphasizing the formal evolution of these diverse works, their interrelationships, and their possible meanings for the artist.
Although Diebenkorn (1922–1993) was born in Portland, Oregon, he grew up in San Francisco’s Ingleside Terraces neighborhood and attended Lowell High School, Stanford University, and UC Berkeley. He lived in Sausalito from 1947 to 1949 and was both a student and instructor at the California School of Fine Arts (today the San Francisco Art Institute). After sojourns in Albuquerque, New Mexico; and Urbana, Illinois, Diebenkorn returned to the Bay Area in 1953 and settled in Berkeley, where he stayed for 13 years.
This exhibition is the first to focus specifically on this fertile period for the artist. His artistic evolution during what is now known as the “Berkeley period” yielded many of his best-known works and marked this era as one of the most interesting chapters in postwar American art. The Berkeley period included an abstract phase (1953–1956) and a figurative phase (ca. 1955–1967) that included landscapes, figures, interiors, and still lifes.
Featuring vibrant and varied works that are both abstract and representational, this unique selection traces the artist’s dramatic stylistic and thematic transformations during this pivotal period through well-known pieces as well as striking recent discoveries rarely or never before seen in public. The Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco have been longstanding supporters of Diebenkorn: his first solo museum exhibition was held at the Legion of Honor in 1948, and the permanent collection houses key works from his Berkeley period including Berkeley #3 (1953) andSeawall (1957). The exhibition features loans from many prestigious public and private collections, including that of the Diebenkorn family.

The exhibition is organized by the Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco, in collaboration with the Palm Springs Art Museum. President’s Circle: Ednah Root Foundation. Curators Circle: Koret Foundation. Conservators Circle: Christie’s. Benefactors Circle: National Endowment for the Arts. Supported by an indemnity from the Federal Council on the Arts and the Humanities.

Monday, June 3, 2013

Acorns, Native Americans in California and Julia Parker

Indian weaving to be shown in Yosemite

Sharing Traditions exhibit opens at museum Tuesday to show richness of native life


































June 2, 2013
Yosemite National Park --
The wood bark shelters and grinding stones at the American Indian village behind the
Yosemite Museum represent to Julia Parker her awakening as a Native American.
Parker, 84, is one of the country's most celebrated basket weavers, a traditional craft
that is also one of the last remaining expressions of indigenous culture, spiritualism
and art in America.
She learned the art from Yosemite Indians who had carried the craft down
through the generations. It has made her Yosemite National Park's
most prominent representative
of a culture dating back thousands of years, a connection that makes her both
proud and emotional.
"This is one of the last sites of the Ahwahneechee people," said Parker,
as she walked last week
through the village, pointing out the roundhouse and granary painstakingly
duplicated from
historic photos of remnant Indian structures still standing in the 19th century.
Parker's intricate work will be featured at the museum along with artifacts,
baskets and other collected pieces from renowned Yosemite Indian
weavers during a new exhibit called
Sharing Traditions, opening Tuesday. The exhibit, paid for with
$102,000 from
the Yosemite Conservancy, is celebrating 84 years of basket weaving
and American Indian
cultural outreach at Yosemite National Park.
"It's an important piece of American history," said Mike Tollefson,
president of the conservancy. "The exhibit focuses on 80 years,
but really it goes back to the first people who occupied the valley
and carried that tradition forward."
Parker, who has spent much of her adult life in the village behind
 he museum demonstrating weaving techniques and pounding acorns, 
is an unlikely representative of that history. How she got to this point
is a remarkable story that is representative of the displacement, 
cultural disintegration and loss of identity suffered by many Native
Americans during the 20th century.
It all began in the small Sonoma County town of Graton, where she was
born in 1929. She and her four siblings were Coast Miwok and Pomo Indians,
but she never knew that. She was a young girl, around 5 years old, 
when both of her parents died. How they died was never revealed, 
but she and her siblings soon found themselves living on a farm with foster
parents, milking cows and doing other chores.

Liz Hafalia, The Chronicle
Julia Parker walks in the replica Indian village at Yosemite with its roundhouse and granary carefully duplicated from historic photos of remnant Indian structures still standing in the 19th century. Parker has been here since she was a teen: "This is one of the last sites of the Ahwahneechee people."

'I just accepted it'

When Parker was an adolescent, her foster mother announced that she could no longer take care of them.
"When she couldn't take care of us anymore, I never felt sad. I just accepted it," Parker said. "I remember my foster parent said to me, 'Don't ever forget you are
a little Indian girl,' but she never
said what type of Indian."
Parker was sent to the Stewart Indian School in Nevada, the primary boarding school for American Indians in the West between 1890 and 1980.
The school's 83 buildings are now listed on the
National Register of Historic Places.
She became friends with a group of Indian children from Yosemite
at the school and remembers ringing a bell at the school to celebrate
the end of World War II. When she was 16, she left to find work
during the summer, but her friends persuaded her to come with them
to Yosemite.
Parker said she remembers the sound of Cascade Falls when
they first reached the valley.
"I didn't know anything about Yosemite at the time, and I'll always
remember that sound," she said. "It impressed me. I was stunned, 
but it felt like I belonged. I felt like this place was waiting for me,
 like a mother."

Liz Hafalia, The Chronicle
Melvin Mann and his wife Esther Mann (right) listen to Julia Parker as she weaves her basket at the Yosemite museum in Yosemite Valley, Calif., on Wednesday, May 29, 2013. Parker moved to Yosemite at the age of 17 and quickly began learning the craft of basket weaving from her husbandÕs grandmother and premier basket weaver, Lucy Telles.

Married at 18

After graduating from the Indian School at age 18, she married Ralph Parker, the grandson of Lucy Telles, who is believed to be the last full-blood Mono Lake Paiute. The Ahwahneechee, the original inhabitants of Yosemite who are believed to have been Miwok, mixed with and traded extensively with the Mono Lake Paiutes, before being driven out of the valley by soldiers in the 1850s. The mother of Chief Tenaya, the most famous Ahwahneechee chief, was a Mono Paiute.
Telles was a famous weaver who spent five years making a
36-inch-wide basket that won a competition at the 1939
Golden Gate International Exposition in San Francisco
 She and other tribal elders took Parker in and taught her how to
collect and weave a basket out of sedge roots, willow and redbud.
"When I went into their village is when I became an Indian,"
 she said. "I was told when I finished my first basket,
'Give it away and then you will be a weaver.' "
Weaving, Parker learned, is only one part of making a basket.
She was taught to stake out her own special area for
collecting plants, to offer a prayer and song when taking from the
earth and to "scrape the willows until they sing to you."
She learned never to make a basket after a death in the family,
"because if you are sad  your sadness will go into the basket
while you are weaving it."
When her baskets are complete, Parker gives something back
to the earth in the form of an offering.
Preparing food also has its intricacies. She learned the importance
of offering the first acorn to the fire spirit and the proper way 
to peel and pound acorns into mash. She was taught how to 
cook in the baskets using hot rocks.
Parker has since studied Indian baskets at the Oakland Museum,
the Phoebe A. Hearst Museum of Anthropology at UC Berkeley and
the National Museum of the American Indian in Washington, D.C.
She has developed her own style, but she maintains the traditional Yosemite
Indian methods and uses local materials.
"When people look at a basket, they don't realize that there is
so much more to it than what you can see," she said.
"I feel each basket comes with a personality and a story. It is the story
 about the plants that live along the river and grow up with their feet
 in the water. It is the story about the culture that gave birth to the basket."

Baskets at museums

Her baskets are on display at museums, including the Smithsonian Institution.
She once made a basket for Queen Elizabeth. She has been employed by
Yosemite National Park as a cultural demonstrator since 1960,
following in the footsteps of Telles and, before that, Maggie Howard,
who began showing tourists weaving and food preparation skills at
Yosemite Museum in 1929. They, too, are part of the new exhibit.
Parker has taught the traditional ways to her sons and her daughter, Lucy,
who is expected to take over for her mother as a park interpreter
when she retires.
Her reputation as a master weaver actually helped her discover
her own heritage about a decade ago. She had been asked by
the Federated Indians of Graton Rancheria to teach basket weaving. 
When she arrived in Graton, she recognized her childhood home
and neighborhood. The memories came flooding back, including
an image of a woman wailing on the ground next to a pair of boots
during the funeral ceremony for her father.
She learned only then that she was Coast Miwok and Kashaya Pomo.
"It turns out I lived on Parker Hill Road," she said, with a laugh,
 "and I ended up being a Parker."
It is a life that has come full circle, but Parker said her heart remains in
the historic village behind the museum near the Merced River
where the original inhabitants of Yosemite Valley once lived.
"I think about these ladies who came before me," she said, her eyes
 welling up as she stood next to a grinding rock used by generations
 of Indians. "Their baskets are still here and they say to me,
 'Don't forget me. Don't forget me.' I never will."
Peter Fimrite is a San Francisco Chronicle staff writer. E-mail: pfimrite@sfchronicle.comTwitter: @pfimrite