In addition to being an incredible icebreaker, this story is my lesson in mastering the odds. As I came to find out, the impossible is indeed very very possible.
This story actually begins before I stepped foot at Stony Brook University. As a high school senior from California, I learned about the field of quantitative finance. I chose to attend Stony Brook University, a place where I hoped to dive into the field alongside my studies in Applied Mathematics & Statistics.
At this point, I had only read about Stony Brook University's quantitative programs as being steeped in the history and culture of quantitative finance. I had heard of Jim Simon's Rennaissance Tech, one of the most successful hedge funds on the planet (next door to Stony Brook). However, even after a couple of months, The Simon Center building was just that, a building. The decorated faculty of the program were still just plaques on the library wall. I decided to wait it out. I doubled down academically, adding a second major, becoming a stats TA, and hammering down on my credits.
In the meantime, I sent out cold emails to professors and graduate students. I was eager to learn more about the history and opportunities that existed in the veins of this university. Out of the numerous emails, a few responded with a history of their research work and a mild interest in me. Most of these conversations died out as the school shut down from COVID-19 that spring. But now I knew, I had to look deeper.
Most things disappoint till you look deeper - Graham Greene
Fast forward to the next year, I had the opportunity to be supervised in Applied Mathematics research by Dr. James Glimm. The experience was undoubtedly the highlight of my time at Stony Brook. Under his generous mentorship, I turned from a test-taking and credit-hammering student to someone who could ask meaningful questions about quantitative finance and discuss the context of our work.
One day as I walked to the cafeteria to grab food, I saw a gathering of people dressed in suits spill out of an adjacent conference room. Out of curiosity, I trailed behind the pack to the drop-off zone where various tinted SUVs picked up most of the members.
One of the men remaining looked very similar to Jim Simons. I had only seen him in pictures and did a quick google search to double-check. There was no way it could actually be him. What were the odds? I walked up to the man and said "Excuse me. You look a lot like the mathematician & investor Jim Simons. From our building, the Simon Center."
To which he responded, "I am Jim Simons."
I will admit I was not prepared for the answer and stood blankly for a second. I assume he sensed this and asked me about my name, major, and year. I answered quickly and asked the reason for his visit. After a short dialogue, a car pulled in to pick him up.
Normally, I don't take my mid-morning lunch breaks with an elevator pitch prepared for billionaire quantitative investors. But I certainly will now. I no longer dismiss any opportunity as unlikely and am expressively grateful to everyone who's helped push me along this path.
Push the odds. They are more flexible than you think.