THE CHARLOTTE OBSERVER FEW ARE HIS EQUAL A 10-YEAR-OLD CHARLOTTEAN

FINDS BEING A MATH PRODIGY HAS PLUSES AND MINUSES

Thursday, July 11, 1996

Section: LIVING

Page: 1E

By ANN DOSS HELMS, Staff Writer

Illustration: Photo-2

Caption: Staff photos by DIEDRA LAIRD: 1. Chess, music, tennis, origami and creative design (at left, a clock he made) all pique the mind of math prodigy Anders Kaseorg, 10. 2. Home-school is out for the summer, but Anders and his mom, Vicky Kaseorg, and brother, Matthias, 8, keep up with prayer and Bible study.

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Can you answer these? Here are the questions Anders Kaseorg, age 10, has tackled from the 1995 State Mathematics Contest for high school students: 1. A rectangle has a perimeter of 24 inches. If the length of the diagonal of this rectangle is 10 inches, what is the area of the rectangle?

2. A club has 15 female members and 12 male members. The club needs to select a delegation that consists of one male and one female member. How many such delegations are there?

3. The degree measures of the angles of a triangle are 50 degrees, 60 degrees and 70 degrees. The side opposite the 60-degree angle is 40 inches long. To the nearest integer, what is the length in inches of the longest side of the triangle?

Answers:

1. 22

2. 180

3. 43

This is how Anders solved the questions: (See microfilm for answers - page 2E.) Anders Kaseorg, 10, is talking about his summer recreation. It's a set of math problems used to test the state's top high school mathematicians. His math mentor, Dr. Harold Reiter of UNC Charlotte, told him he'd do well to solve one or two. So far, Anders says, he's solved three. ``Solved? Solved?'' interrupts his 8-year-old brother, Matthias. ``How do you know they're correct? Do you have the answer sheet?''

Such is life in the south Charlotte home of the Kaseorgs (pronounced ``kah-zee-orgs'' - it's Estonian). Anders has the kind of natural gift that leaves mathematicians marveling. In 25 years working with North Carolina's most gifted math students, Reiter says, he's seen two such prodigies - Anders and Lenny Ng of Chapel Hill, now 19 and a world-renowned mathematician who just graduated from Harvard. In Charlotte, Reiter says, there's been ``nobody even in the same ballpark.''

Obviously, family life changes when you have a child who'd rather read college calculus texts than play soccer. But Vicky Kaseorg, an artist, and Arvo Kaseorg, financial officer for a Charlotte-based ministry, say at the core they're doing what other families do: trying

to develop both sons' talents, live their faith and have fun. Conservative Christian home-schoolers who moved from New York to Charlotte 2-1/2 years ago, they feel more supported than they ever have. ``We've always had an attitude that nothing is beyond our ability if we just objectively look at it,'' says Arvo Kaseorg. ``We're all learning this together.''

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An element of mystery Like Anders, most prodigies are firstborn sons of intelligent, well-educated families. Genetics, family emphasis on learning and the attention first children get all seem to play a role. Yet there's always an element of mystery. ``Nobody understands where these tremendously gifted kids come from,'' says Dr. Julian Stanley of Johns Hopkins University, a pioneer in the study of prodigies. When Anders was still crawling, he solved a Rubik's Cube puzzle, his mother says. By 2 he was a proficient reader and could play tunes on his little Fisher-Price keyboard.

When he started kindergarten in New York, ``his teacher said he was the most distractible child she'd ever met,'' Vicky Kaseorg recalls. Tests showed why: Anders could read like a high school

senior and do multiplication and division. Even with programs for gifted children, school officials told the Kaseorgs, they did not have a program that could match Anders' needs. ``I started exploring home-schooling out of real necessity,'' says Vicky Kaseorg, who had taught learning-disabled children. Matthias was home-schooled from the start. Like most younger siblings of prodigies, he's talented enough to be the star of any average family. He tests at the top of his grade level and is a singer who will perform at the Billy Graham crusade in Charlotte in September.

With both boys, the parents say, the key is rich stimulation - books, computer programs, the arts and, in Anders' case, college math professors. In some ways, the boys are opposites. Anders is reserved and likes solitary activities, such as playing piano, walking and biking. Matthias, an avid soccer player, is quick with a giggle or wisecrack. ``They're relatively even chess players, surprisingly,'' says their dad. ``Matthias is very bold and daring and illogical. Anders tries to be critical and by-the-book. He'll make a mistake, and Matthias is an eagle eye; he'll spot it.''

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The real thing Reiter, a UNCC math professor, was skeptical when Vicky Kaseorg called this spring, asking his advice about her highly gifted son. He hears from about a dozen parents a year who think their kids are prodigies; most are wrong. When they arrived at Reiter's office, Anders asked him to settle an argument he'd been having with a high school student. Anders thought that 0.9999, repeated infinitely, was the same as 1. No way, the high-schooler said. But the way Anders saw it, 8/9 equals 0.8888 . . . , and 1/9 equals 0.1111 . . . , and 8/9 plus 1/9 equals 1, so 0.9999 . . . also equals 1. Exactly right, said Reiter. ``It is not very, very close to 1. It is another name for the number 1.'' Reiter posed some other questions, including a geometric puzzle that had fascinated Lenny Ng as a seventh-grader. Anders' responses convinced Reiter he was the real thing. ``He's thinking at a very good college level,'' Reiter says. ``I look for depth of understanding - not just the skills, but the real understanding that comes over a long time for most people.

''Explaining his thoughts to those with lesser understanding can be a challenge. On a recent afternoon, Anders squirmed on his sofa and toyed with the laces of his Reeboks as he tried. ``Lately I've been doing some problems based on infinity. My theory is that infinity equals 1 divided by zero,'' Anders says, pausing to acknowledge that math teachers disagree. ``Teachers say 1 divided by zero is an illegal expression, because they don't want students asking about infinity.''

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An easy target Some problems even a prodigy can't easily solve. ``A lot of the kids make fun of me,'' Anders says. ``I'm not sure why.'' He isn't good at feigning interest in things he finds boring, or in letting someone else's ideas prevail when he sees a better way, his mom says. ``In academics he's almost always right, but in social situations that doesn't always work,'' she says.

Anders has a sense of humor - he loves Rush Limbaugh - but jokes about the Clintons seldom click with 10-year-olds. It's easy for other kids - or adults who don't know him well - to think Anders is being pretentious or stubborn. And when Anders thinks he's being brushed off, he tends to lose his cool. ``People judge me a bad mom or him a brat,'' says Vicky Kaseorg.

``He's judged or I'm judged based on how they would have dealt with a typical kid.'' ``He's kind of an easy target,'' says Arvo Kaseorg. ``We try to keep his contacts relatively structured and supervised. We don't just send him down the street to play with a bunch of kids.'' The Kaseorgs ache when their child is taunted, but they avoid bitterness. ``We try to be problem solvers, no matter what the problem, whether it's social or verbal or mathematical,'' says Arvo Kaseorg.

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A good move The Kaseorgs left New York when Arvo got a job with Chosen People Ministries, a Charlotte-based Christian ministry to Jewish people. To their delight, they've found a circle of friends and mentors who have made their life easier. For starters, there's a strong network of Christian home-schoolers here. While Vicky Kaseorg home-schools mainly because of Anders' academic needs, Bible study is an important part of the curriculum.

Then there's Reiter, a steady source of encouragement and challenge for Anders. And Dr. George Hart, a kidney specialist and friend from Church at Charlotte, where the Kaseorgs are members. Hart took Anders to visit a dialysis unit and coached him on a research paper on the kidneys. ``He has the potential to be an original thinker, which not many of us are,'' Hart says.

Anders also has found young friends, from 9-year-old Matthew Johnson, who shares his love of chess, computers and piano, to the high-schoolers at the neighborhood pool who try to beat him at chess.

Vicky Kaseorg says she doesn't test Anders for the fun of it - he's never had an IQ test - but he recently took the Scholastic Assessment Tests, or SAT, to get into the Johns Hopkins program for exceptionally talented youth. Acceptance means long-distance links to the field's top experts - and other gifted kids. Participants must score higher than 700 on one section of the college-assessment test before age 13. Anders scored 710 in math - something one in 50,000 boys his age (and far fewer girls) can do, says Stanley of Johns Hopkins. His lower score on the verbal portion - about 350 - is typical of such children, Stanley adds. Stanley and the Kaseorgs agree on the challenge of the coming years: finding courses that will challenge Anders, putting him in touch with other gifted kids and helping him cope with all the normal hurdles of adolescence.

Vicky Kaseorg predicts Anders will finish high school early, and perhaps she'll accompany him to college until he's old enough to go on his own. ``I don't want to be too young,'' says Anders. ``With all the older kids, they'll probably make fun of me.''

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3 questions aced Matthias tires of talk about his brother and goes outside to check on his ``slime'' - a mix of flour, mint leaves, sugar, soap and water sitting out in the sun. But the question he raised remains: Did Anders really solve the first three questions on the 1995 State Mathematics Contest?

Reiter agreed to check. When he reported the results, his voice was filled with pride. ``He not only got them,'' Reiter said, ``but he got them elegantly.''  

 

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