This was not some cruel, sadistic punishment contrived to break unruly delinquent spirits and strike fear into the hearts of high school students across America, but rather the High School Mathematical Contest in Modeling (HiMCM), an annual event sponsored by the Consortium for Mathematics and Its Applications (COMAP), now in its eighth year. This nationwide contest unconventionally challenges students, not to find an arbitrary numerical answer, but to construct a mathematical setup in order to achieve some real-life objective. Given a time frame of two weeks, within which participants can take any consecutive 36-hour period, teams of up to four must work together to generate a coherent, well-substantiated result which is applicable in the real world. Teams can employ any inanimate (non-human) source in the course of their undertaking, and team members are free to roam where they like and allocate their time as they wish.

Contestants have a choice between two problems; in our case, the query we selected dealt with the use of sonar technology in bathymetry. Essentially, my teammates (Adam Zisman, Josh Matalon, Eric Ross) and I were asked to design a mathematical model to map the ocean floor utilizing sonar pulses. Proctored by Mrs. McClintock, we kicked off our problem-solving extravaganza by merging the tables in the library to create one mega-table, since ample space is useful, and things just seem much more official when there’s a giant conference table. Armed with calculator, physics book, and what was, at the beginning, copious amounts of energy, we tackled the issue at hand with tenacity and gritty determination.

The first day we worked from 4:00 to 10:00 pm, and then returned home to grab some sleep before starting at 12:00 the next day. A generous supply of sparkling raspberry lemonade and root beer kept our thirsts quenched through the hours of (sometimes heated) discussion and by the end of the 36-hour period, we had consumed quite a few bags of various fattening junk foods. By the close of the contest, a certain dark humor had pervaded our workspace; we were exhausted, slightly sick of math, and prone to irascibility. At around 12:30 am (our allotted time technically ended at 4:00 am), the final paper, complete with written explanation, derivations, and diagrams was handed in, and we finally trudged home to our beds.

Perhaps the most notable aspect of this experience was the inherent learning process—the problems from year to year span such a wide array of occupational fields and areas of expertise that to prepare by studying any specific subject would be futile. Basically, participants educate themselves on the subject in question during the allotted 36 hours. Thorough background research is integral to the composition of the final document; by the conclusion of the competition we had obtained a fairly extensive understanding of sonar and its behavior in the ocean. The product of our labor was 12 pages long with an additional page for a portion I realized we had forgotten.
Moreover, this activity forced us to coordinate with each other on an entirely new level. As Mrs. McClintock remarked, it was “tough for you to work in a collaborative way” especially when “you four are really independent math learners.” However, overall, “each brought something unique” to our pool of abilities, and, with time, we established a system of coaction. I think this cooperative facet of the HiMCM is something we should bring into all aspects of our lives.

I wholeheartedly agree with Adam Zisman when he declared “I’d do it again.” Undoubtedly, we all gained something indelible from this experience. All things considered, the conclusion to be made here is not “Avoid 36-hour math contests at all costs!”, despite what you may think, but rather to remain open to trying new things—such as drinking sparkling raspberry lemonade, or leaving your own private mental zone to interconnect with a different way of thinking, or perhaps even a 36-hour contest in mathematical modeling.

Joy Tao '07