The circle of black math scholars in the United States is small enough that, sooner or later, they're going to bump into Scott W. Williams and his Web site called Mathematicians of the African Diaspora.
Mr. Williams, a professor of mathematics at the State University of New York at Buffalo, started the site (http://www.math.buffalo.edu/mad) in the late 1990s to track black mathematicians in the United States, Africa, and elsewhere. It includes biographies, historical essays, and a listing of black scholars who hold math doctorates. There are photographs of mathematical patterns seen in African hairstyles, excerpts from the mathematician Benjamin Banneker's trigonometry puzzle, and a discussion of West African numeration systems.
It's a lot of work, but Mr. Williams figures someone needs to do it: He's a member of a club that he wishes weren't so exclusive. "Look, I'll tell you a story," he says. In 1971 a local newspaper did an article on him, reporting that Buffalo had hired one of the nation's top black mathematicians. "I thought, Wait a minute. I'm virtually a new Ph.D. — how could I be one of the top ones? So I made an effort to find out who the new Ph.D.'s were and which ones did research."
Years later he discovered an inspiring Web site that featured black scientists. But it only named a few mathematicians. "I said to myself, I can name 20," he says. "And that's when I created the site.
"The idea was to let us know who we were."
The first African-American to earn a math Ph.D.? That would be Elbert Frank Cox, awarded a degree from Cornell University in 1925.
The first African-American woman? That would be Euphemia Lofton Haynes, whose 1943 degree came from Catholic University of America.
The Web site also names the most highly cited black mathematicians, one of whom is Emery N. Brown, a physician and mathematician who was one of just four black Americans known to have earned a math Ph.D. in academic 1987-88. (See article on Page B12.)
Among the Web site's most poignant and interesting features are the accounts of black Americans educated in the era of segregation. One essay, "You Can Get There Even From Alice, Texas," is by Raymond L. Johnson, a professor of mathematics at the University of Maryland at College Park. As a child in Texas, he walked past a new elementary school to reach his all-black, two-room schoolhouse. He attended high school in the age of Sputnik, and met a teacher who took him under his wing. That teacher later recommended Mr. Johnson to his own math mentor, H.B. Curtis, at the University of Texas at Austin.
At that "integrated" university, where dorms and much of campus life remained segregated, Mr. Johnson was warned against taking courses with Robert Lee Moore, an infamous mathematics professor who had developed a style of inquiry-based learning still known as the Moore Method. According to the accounts of Mr. Johnson and other scholars on the Web site (and elsewhere), Mr. Moore simply did not want to teach black students. Some learned his methods through Mr. Moore's mathematical "descendants," but still hold bitter memories of the brilliant man who would not share his gifts with them.
The university eventually named a building after Mr. Moore, and supporters of his teaching method formed the Educational Advancement Foundation to advance and preserve it. Randolf Cooper, the foundation's chief academic officer, says he occasionally hears complaints from black scholars at the annual joint meeting for mathematicians, where he distributes materials on the Moore Method. "I can't refute history," he says, "but I think you have to separate the man from the methodology." The foundation sponsored a biography of Mr. Moore that addresses that part of his legacy, he adds.
Mr. Johnson went on to become department chairman at Maryland, which made history when it awarded three Ph.D.'s in mathematics to black women in a single year (The Chronicle, February 16, 2001).
Not surprisingly, the Web site's founder has some ideas about how to encourage more black youngsters to pursue high-level mathematics. "People have to think it's rewarding," Mr. Williams says. "In a very crass manner I tell young people, Here's what you can do with your Ph.D.: You can get a very good salary, and, someone like me, I get free travel all over the world.
"You can have a really rewarding life as a mathematician. Students don't understand that."
Mr. Williams often hears from schoolteachers who appreciate his Web site — particularly during Black History Month. But Frederick Douglass, the 19th-century abolitionist and escaped slave, might not be so appreciative if he could fire up his computer today. That's because so many of those letters say, "Finally! We don't have to keep doing Frederick Douglass."
http://chronicle.com Section: Diversity in Academic Careers Volume 53, Issue 6, Page B14
