Professor H. L. Bray       
        Personal
                Hubert Edward Bray (1936-2025)         
                        Views on Parenting  

Whereas my dad's parents gave him the maximum freedom to explore and make mistakes as a child, my dad took nearly the opposite approach with his kids. He just assumed that any child of his would be skipping school, racing hot rods and motorcycles, and other shenanigans with friends instead of doing their homework and going to bed early, so he was ready for the worst. As a result, my brother and I never had the slightest chance of ever even thinking about being naughty or rebellious in any way. My dad patiently explained to us at an early age why school was important, and why we should do our best, so we did. As a result, we were both valedictorians in high school. Even more surprisingly, my brother and I are both math professors at Duke University, both with Ph.D.'s from Stanford, living lives that our dad wished for us. Thanks, Daddy!

My dad had a characteristic that I call "force of will." Once he decided something was good and proper, there was no stopping him. For example, my brother and I had to do what my dad said to do every single time, with a good attitude, when he said to do it. No exceptions. To defy him was to ask for an eyeball to eyeball encounter which no child could win. On the other hand, my dad only told us to do things which we knew were probably in our best interest anyway, so there was no good reason to object. In other words, my dad had credibility with his kids, much like a great sports coach like Bobby Knight or Coach K has with their players.

So when my dad said, "Come here, I'm going to teach you a math lesson," we participated enthusiastically and learned as much as we could for that hour or two. Then he'd brag about us to our mom about what a great job we did, every time. Also, when my dad told us to learn as much as we could about math and physics, we did. When he told us the most admirable people who ever lived were mathematicians and physicists like Newton and Einstein, we had no reason to doubt him. As adults, we see that we were brainwashed a bit - obviously there are many other admirable people beyond great scientists. My dad knew this too. Nevertheless, my dad gave us a mindset which resulted in us getting very good at math and physics.

Another funny thing about my dad is that he used reverse psychology on us a lot, perhaps inadvertently. For example, no matter how well we did in school, he'd congratulate us, but still wonder whether or not that was good enough to get into Rice University. Even when I came in 4th place in the United States on the USA Math Olympiad, followed by a bronze medal at the 1988 International Math Olympiad, my dad still warned me about how smart Rice students were, and how hard college was going to be. In his mind, Rice University, where his dad had been a professor, was the ultimate academic environment - holy ground for him. When I was finally admitted to Rice, with a full tuition scholarship no less, my dad could not believe it. This seemed unreal to him. When I won the Hubert Evelyn Bray Prize in Mathematics, named after his dad, for being the most outstanding math student at Rice University, it seemed like a dream to him. When I got an A+ in 12 out of my 13 math classes at Rice, he thought that was amazing, but still cautioned me that this is not even close to doing research at an elite level, as the Rice professors themselves were doing. There would be no shame if graduate school was too hard for me. Hence, when I did great in graduate school and got postdoc offers from MIT and Harvard, I never felt any pressure - just the joy of getting to live my dream. There is something liberating about feeling like everything you accomplish is just the cherry on top, so that no matter what happens, everything will still be great. In other words, instead of saying "You must do well, or else!" as most people think my dad might have said to me, he actually said "That's great! But it's almost impossible to succeed at the next level, so don't feel bad if you can't." This created the "Challenged accepted!" psychological effect on me, free of any undue pressure.

Ironically, one of my dad's great strengths was his openness about his weaknesses. Often my dad would say he "taught by counterexample" with the hope that we would not repeat his mistakes.

For example, in 1947, at the age of 11, my dad started smoking cigarettes with an older neighborhood kid. Back then, smoking cigarettes was promoted in the movies and was seen by an 11 year old as the manly thing to do. By age 13, my dad told me that he tried to stop, but couldn't. My dad smoked off and on until his heart attack and quadruple bypass surgery at age 58, then started up again briefly, and then finally quit for good around 60 years old. Smoking was one of my dad's biggest regrets in life. As a result, I would never dream of smoking. First, because it kills people. Second, because I wouldn't want to disappoint my dad.

I also do not drink alcohol because of my dad. Though both my parents did when they were younger especially, my dad came to the conclusion as an adult that, in his experience, the cons of drinking alcohol outweighed the pros. Logically, if you look at the death and destruction due to alcohol, from car crashes to liver damage to violence and sexual assaults of various forms to plain ol' regrettable behavior and alcoholism that destroys marriages and families, even though that is never anyone's original intent, it is not hard to understand his point that it is safer just to skip the whole thing. Plus, if you never start, you don't feel like you are even missing anything. My dad patiently explained all of this to me when I was a kid. It was his considered opinion that I'd be better off in life if I didn't drink alcohol, so I didn't. Peer pressure was no match for the respect that I had, and still do have to this day, for my dad's considered opinions.

More generally, by the time I was 11, I knew what my dad thought, in pretty good detail, on most topics, effectively giving me the wisdom, imperfect as everyone's wisdom is, of a very knowledgeable 45 year old. This was a great gift for my brother and me and gave us both a great start in life.

Hubert Lewis Bray
September 9, 2025