the real focus / reflections of one year in college

A lot can happen within 8-9 months in school. My first year in college was primarily a learning experience -- one that proved very different from that of high school.

In high school, there was typically a direct correlation between hard work and the letter grade earned in a class. I grew up with that mentality, believing that the work I put in would usually reflect the rewarding grade an instructor gives in return. For me, college became a whole different story. "Learning" became rather burdensome, because there seemed to be no correlation between my effort put in and the grades I received. 

Adjusting to the quarter system itself was a huge challenge. The fast pace and constant testing of the quarter system took me by surprise. Small sidetrack: I have very conflicted feelings about the quarter system. Yes, it forces students to complete courses at a faster rate, but merely 10 weeks to digest brand new material is unfathomable for me. Now, I can hardly remember much about Schrodinger's equation, one of the main topics of discussion in my chemistry class during fall quarter. Yet, on the other hand, this rapid learning process has been training my brain to process new information more efficiently. 

I find it interesting (and disappointing) that it took me quite a while to grasp one very, very important aspect of my academic career: focus on learning, not on the grade. This may seem obvious, but it is frightening how easily my fear of failure can overtake and cause me to underestimate the educational process and focus solely on the product. In college, people around me all seemed to be very high achievers, and understanding new material clearly proved more difficult for me than others. The thought of letter grades consumed me, and I became so focused on the small, printed letters on my transcript. Academics became an onus as I lost interest in the topics discussed in class. Some professors taunted students about their grading policies and high expectations, and  certain TAs didn't make the process any more bearable.  

Slowly but surely, the prospect of being in school to learn something worthwhile in college rather than feeling miserable over grades dawned on me. Part of this epiphany came from my volunteer work with BEAM, an outreach group on campus. Every week, I teach a basic science concept to a group of young elementary school students, then perform an experiment with them to encourage active participation in their education. Their intelligence and eagerness to understand the ubiquity of science is contagious. I noted how I lacked their enthusiasm and interest when it came to learning. Enlightening these kids about science is one thing, but they served as an encouraging beacon of hope in my life during my academic crisis. They made me realize I need to change my attitude and mindset towards school. 

I'm slowly adjusting back to a student lifestyle that makes me happier. In spring quarter, I finally borrowed a book from the college library for casual reading, something I had not done for a long time. I started writing in my journal again. I fostered a higher sense of curiosity towards material in my classes and its applications. Talking with upperclassmen and approachable professors put me at ease. I continue to remind myself that I am in school to learn material and discover my interests rather than be judged on a letter grade. 

On the other hand, I have made so many incredible friends who continue to inspire me to keep fighting through the most difficult of times, even when it is beyond tempting to quit. We laugh about things most people wouldn't understand: my apparent addiction for bananas (at one point, I consumed three bananas in a row), my insistence on eating oatmeal with soy milk and wheat bread for breakfast (and how I can never skip breakfast), our love for charming Pokemon stuffed animals, giving ourselves special superpowers like characters in Avatar: The Last Air-bender, making plans to lounge around at McDonald's and a 24-hour Wal-mart,  and wishing we had some dainty Despicable Me minions with us. Pretty much, there is always uncontrollable laughter. 

I'm considered a seal and my friend a bunny ("weird" doesn't even begin to describe this). Seals and bunnies can certainly be best buds! Tong, thank you for drawing me this and forming a smile on my face every time I see this.

As summer classes continue and with fall quarter looming around the quarter, I'm both anxious and excited (but mostly excited) to see what surprises I have in store for myself with the decisions I make and the actions I take.

scrumptious comp sci

From the deepest realms of my mind is where I must dig with passionate love and hatred in order to successfully write a C++ code. 

The human mind is a funky one. While a child may be extremely imaginative and undoubtedly creative, many may argue that a child lacks the patience to thoroughly rationalize information. As we grow into adults and encounter situations which require some sort of logical thinking process (maybe practicing common courtesy, or trying to figure out how an exam is attempting to trick us in every way possible), our brains supposedly reason more than they used to when we were toddlers. 

Reasoning with children is a difficult process. I'm not even referring to a school setting where it is nearly impossible to explain some basic grammar concepts to them without some fidgety kids here and there. Just think of a common scenario where a child insists on buying his/her zillionth toy of the week, having forgotten that there are other new toys lying idle on the floor at home. Then the parent is likely to try to reason with (or scold) the child. Fact 1: You just bought the same toy of a different color yesterday. Fact 2: Your toy is not broken. Conclusion: You may still go home and play with the same toy and (possibly) feel the same joy as you would if you owned a blue toy truck instead of a yellow one.

When I began learning C++, it certainly felt like I was instructing a child.. a very stubborn child who only obeys me if I speak to him/her in with the perfect voice tone and language. Forget one condition and this child goes wild. In a good (and a bad) way, this child called the computer is unable to throw emotional tantrums at me if I instruct it incorrectly. Yet I must spend hours, maybe days, trying to figure out exactly where I misspoke in addressing this child who only speaks one language at a time. Furthermore, there is this identification process the computer child makes with the ASCII table that took me far too long to figure out. Well, that's the setback of having a mute child who only communicates with me through error messages on a monitor..

For me to communicate with my computer child requires the utmost patience. This patience isn't a patience I must practice with someone or something else, but is a patience I must learn to have with myself. The computer child is an inanimate object. I can scream viciously at it when it refuses to compile and read my commands as I desire, but it has no reaction. In the end, I only frustrate myself further. 

Programming in C++ certainly requires concentration and self-control and really tests my level of patience. C++ is able to create simple "Hello world!" and mathematical calculations to some of the most powerful applications present today. What's fascinating (and equally draining) about C++ is its lack of abstraction. Every little detail must be coded in order for the computer to dissect the instructions we give. C++ forces me to think deep down and rationalize (the human ability to rationalize is a gift that many don't use... and I think it is often taken for granted). It's truly testing whether or not I know what I may think I know.

Well, C++, allow me to forget a semicolon or an equal sign for you to disobey my commands occasionally. One day, I will learn to communicate efficiently with you.

Throwback.. Summer 2011

The summer before my senior year of high school, I attended the Sci Art Nanolab. Looking back, I realize that I didn't understand most of the research taking place in the laboratories at the California Nanosystems Institute. Now a UCLA student pursuing an engineering degree, I'd like to think I've come a long way since my days at CNSI. I remember being in awe of the massive machines in the labs and the extensive computers present.

I was reviewing some old files on my computer when I ran into this gem. Throughout the program, we were required to write blog posts daily to draw connections between the arts and sciences based on certain presentations and guest lecturers. This blog post is about one of my favorite presentations from guest speaker Colleen Macklin.. here it is!
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As a dedicated musician, my mind suddenly sparked some intense interest and concentration when the second guest speaker in the evening spoke of her integration between the arts and science to teach something educationally through technological games. Colleen Macklin, the first speaker, spoke of how her game creations can be treated like a mathematical equation. The equation states “Game + rules = Emergence.” This made me realize how the boundaries present in a game can also serve as a way to release the creativity deep inside within a person when these borders are created, incorporating both art and science in the process. Musician Samuel Lover once claimed, “Circumstances are the rules of the weak; they are but the instruments of the wise.” The uses of both science and art are extremely effective when trying to stimulate the human mind to utilize reactions and paradigm shifts.

The existence of rules have often been scrutinized and hated by many people. Rules are often seen as the ultimate concrete barrier to break through; human beings like to ignore their existence. Playwright and critic George Bernard Shaw once said, “The golden rule is that there are no golden rules.” Yet, when such a principle for freedom is set, it seems as if the universe seemed too large and everybody else seemed so small—exactly how I felt after watching Hubble 3D at the California Science Center. When human beings are given too much freedom and no boundaries to be restrained within, it seemed as if our contributions are useless. However, if I were to look at things on a smaller sized scale and take baby steps to reach a bigger goal, these contributions eventually will make a difference, be it on a local scale or a universal scale.

The idea of rules and boundaries is what caused me to think about the changes and improvements that could take place if everybody would look at things on a smaller scale. For instance, a toddler would only be able to walk if he or she learned to take the smaller steps to be able to allow him or herself to be capable of physically moving on the Earth. The games presented today are just like taking baby steps on a miniature scale. I know that personally, as a human, I always want to take the shortcut and make it to my final goal in a shorter amount of time. Yet, I think rules like those set in interactive games force me to limit my goals and take the puny steps that would create a better final product. I was stimulated when I heard the professional musician state that she wanted to create a game that would allow people to learn something about music and the difficult theory behind it. I could relate to her personally; I am a musician and I find myself much better a performer than I am at understanding music theory. Those books from Keyboard Concepts that teach Deceptive and Augmented Cadences are some things I detest most about music. However, the actual music performance is entirely different, and knowing that someone wants to create an interactive experience with music through a game is inspiring. The game forces the player to have restrictions in the learning process, which is important; otherwise, the player might just want to know instantly how to play a Chopin Polonaise within an hour. Furthermore, the learning process is done in an exciting way. Games like Budgetball Colleen devised are exciting ways that create the borderlines for people to be able to take diminutive steps and gradually expand their knowledge on the current economic crises.

The devising of these games serves as one of the best examples of the integration of art and science. In addition, it has an educational purpose behind it and teaches patience, a quality necessary for both science and art.