A Eulogy

I've been thinking more about death lately. All living things will die; yet mortality is not something many people work through as they would their diet and exercise regime and clothes they wear to work. This past year has been the greatest year of growth in terms of reflection, self-awareness, and acting on my self-awareness, and I strive to continue leveling up in this realm of my life.

For many eulogy writing prompts online, the prompt tends to say: when I am gone, how would I want people to remember me? But the question I pose is: how would I want to remember myself, if I were taking my very last breaths? It is a very subtle phrasing difference; the former places more emphasis on what others think of me, while the latter is on what I think of me. What fundamentally makes me happy and proud to be Jessica Lin? The train of thoughts continue below...

• She created peace in her own heart with herself and in her relationships despite the noise and frenzy of the world constantly taking peace away
• She was present and 500% focused on the situation before her
• She was an intent listener; others felt heard and seen in her presence 
• Loving. Thoughtful. 
• She showed detached empathy (more on detached empathy for another post; the idea is to not be so overwhelmed by emotion in empathy, which I am 100% guilty of, that it results in not being prosocial) 
• She had strong, kind, and contagiously good energy
• She was someone who earned things, not someone who took things
• She was unapologetically herself because she knew. who. she. was.  

I feel so vulnerable and emotional typing this up. I am reminded of the many years I spent in school feeling insecure and lost... seeing other girls in the gym locker room whispering about the way I looked, eating lunch alone because I didn't know how to approach people I wanted to talk to, letting social media dictate my worth, confusion about what I wanted to study in college, the pressure of leading a specific lifestyle that others wanted, questioning purpose and passion, craving acceptance from my peers, beating myself up for stupid things I said and mistakes I made, crying buckets of tears in front of my graduate school advisor because of the overwhelming stress and grad school toxicity, blaming myself for a dishonest ex-boyfriend...

I used to wish that I never had these painful experiences, but now, I wouldn't go back and change a thing. I don't feel shame about my past anymore. It is just so strange to look at what I used to care so much about and compare it to the person I want to remember myself for. I want to develop strong, meaningful relationships. I want to be unshakeable in a society that is slowly taking away the core of people's fundamental goodness. Every living thing on this planet has experienced sunrise and sunset. As the sun sets, all the embarrassment and disappointments with the day sets along with it; the sun reignites and rises the next morning and spreads its rays to remind each of us that we possess the energy to be the best we can be in that moment for that day, and to continue growing with each sunrise.

I really don't care for having conventional "success" or superficially "having it all" on the outside. Knowing and loving your heart, and continuously sharing the energy in your heart... that is the most important.

Thus, I ask myself every night... did you love the person you were today? 

2 Big Lessons from this past year

As I delve deeper into my undergraduate studies and life, I am learning to acknowledge my happiness. We've all heard it: humans are emotional creatures and tend to dwell on the setbacks and hardships while seldom acknowledging the moments when we are truly happy and content.

To (rather unfairly) simplify a painful and very complex personal experience: about a year ago, my collegiate life was heading downhill. I felt as if everything were slowly falling apart. Daily rivers of tears accompanied the extreme frustration with school. It all spiraled into emotional instability, and it's still difficult for me to admit that almost all of this unhappiness stemmed from academics. I became so disinterested in the academic content that I eventually lost motivation to learn and put in effort. Coupled with the disinterest were high-level challenges from the abstract subject matter of my major at the time. I put academics before all (after all, the ultimate goal in college is to receive a degree in something that I desire to specialize in). This top priority turned from intense curiosity and passion to depression and self-loathing, obvious portents of a need for massive change.

Just a few days ago, I began to acknowledge my happy moments. That led to realizing that I am actually a pretty awesome person - and I had never felt this awesome before because I failed to recognize my victories, especially the small ones that are easily overlooked. I then began to fathom why I am able to feel so much happier now, and this falls under two big umbrellas.

(1) My previously dominant emotional struggles and self-loathing now give me strength.
I've always known that hardships allow people to feel much more prepared for future challenges. However, what surprised me most were my recent acknowledgements of "Wow, I know I would not be this happy and, most importantly, grateful in my new major (more generally, academic department) had I not suffered immensely a year ago." I feel strongest and most self-assured when I am genuinely happy. So many times, I had wished that all the disparities had never happened, but I can't disparage what happened a year ago. Because I was completely downcast and inconsolable, I am now able to sincerely appreciate the smallest moments of bliss and euphoria that cross my path, because hey - almost anything beats those days of self-loathing.

(2) I surround myself with both "right and wrong" people, and both are equally important.
Friends come and go, but sometimes, it can take an entire year or more to understand someone on an authentic level. I discovered that some people are not who I thought they were, and others are so much more compassionate and kind than the person I first knew.

I have two really kindhearted roommates. We all look out for each other, provide mutual support, and live off a code of blatant honesty. This has allowed us to cut out the nonsense and pointless squabbles that may accompany living with close friends. They are my sisters. They can see right through me and know that the truth is exponentially more powerful than any lie. Surprisingly, when I first met them both, I had never thought that I would meet them again.

I have also grown closer with someone I met about a year ago. I am forever indebted to this individual. He and I met through his roommate and surprisingly, our friendship launched through sarcastic humor and a stuffed animal wombat. Throughout most of last year, we exchanged countless laughs; I always loved his company. It was not until the start of this school-year when I came to terms with how much I respected his commitment to his word, ability to not only hear but also to listen, open heart, and generous nature. He is a person whose actions speak louder than his words - and they represent him in a positive light. It is so refreshing to know that there are individuals who value what is important to both themselves and others, and know how to listen. And slowly but surely, I'm learning to become a better listener as well.

After dealing with combative people, gratefulness comes so much more naturally. I am learning so much about myself and the person I strive to be.

More importantly, I am able to acknowledge myself and my own happiness.

Katty Kay & Claire Shipman's "The Confidence Code" and Sheryl Sandberg's "Lean In"

Ever since summer classes ended, I've taken on a 9-5 part-time job that involves a lot of sitting and idleness. The most natural response for me was to read, and I have never charged my Kindle Paperwhite this excessively before. Of the last four books I've completed, three of them were nonfiction. I now have a lassitude toward fiction. As creative and imaginative as writers are with fiction, fiction makes me sad for obvious reasons.

I surprised myself as I completed each nonfiction work, especially since I used to be addicted to sci-fi and fantasy themed novels (can we say Harry Potter, please). Nonfiction has motivated me towards active self-improvement and diverts my attention towards real life as I learn about the real human condition. Brain Rules, The Confidence Code, and Lean In each provided unique perspectives about social issues prominent in the United States today. The former two especially use a scientific storytelling method to while discussing social implications. All three have strong and salient plots that educate and engage me. I couldn't help but wonder why professors don't assign these sorts of books for class textbooks. Textbooks are made to solely inform; these books are both empathetic with the human condition and informative while backed with extensive research studies to expand upon their points. Brain Rules especially had challenging but plausible suggestions for improving work life and the education system to create a better learning environment, and I loved Medina's proposals.

I'm glad I read The Confidence Code and Lean In back-to-back. They complement each other perfectly. Merely reading them already boosted my confidence level significantly. Throughout college, I've experienced several moments of extreme self-esteem drops (roll through some old posts and it'll make sense). Despite interminable personal lectures, emotional outbursts, and excessive journaling, I never seemed to get out of my I-am-going-to-suck-at-life shell that I refused to leave these past two years, especially as a female in a male-dominated field. Just last month, I was lying on the floor in my room and complaining to my mom about how I felt like I had no future. There were some legit first-world problems. Am I overloading my work for this coming school year? What activities do I participate in this time? What do I do after I graduate college? What if no man I like ever wants to date me, which means what if I'm single forever and never married? Am I still afraid of academic failure despite all I've gone through?

Hearing stories from three women who have experienced defeating moments themselves and learned to stand back up encouraged me more than any pep talk a friend or parent could give. It strikes me as hilariously sad how I would hear the exact same advice told in everyday language from someone I know and be unable to implement it, but read the advice in books published by reputable individuals and suddenly feel slightly braver. Here are some of my favorite moments from The Confidence Code and Lean In:

Mastery refers to the process and progress, not perfection.
"Perfectionism inhibits achievement."
Confidence is leaving your comfort zone and taking action. Do it.
Courage is a critical partner to confidence.
Overthinking, people pleasing, and the inability to let go of defeats are confidence killers.
"Dare the difference."
"Fortune favors the bold."
"What would you do if you weren't afraid? Go do it."
"The upside for painful knowledge is so much greater than the downside of blissful ignorance."

"Success is making the best choices we can...and accepting them."

"I truly believe that the single most important career decision that a woman makes is whether she will have a life partner and who that partner is. I don't know one woman in a leadership position whose life partner is not fully - and I mean fully - supportive of her career. No exceptions."

It strikes me that these concepts are widely accepted yet forgotten. It took two entire books to instill a different mindset within. I don't have enough self-compassion. I strive for perfectionism not because I want to be the very best at what I do, but because I always falsely believed that what I did wasn't good enough. Sheryl Sandberg suggests adopting both a long-term dream and a shorter, say 18-month plan. When coming up with these, set goals that have both "focus and flexibility," she emphasizes. It is then when I come to realize that my goals are either too out of my reach or too doable. There wasn't something appropriate for me to work towards. (But of course, in my head, it all had made sense initially.)

These past few weeks, I've voluntarily done things I usually don't do - broke a little bit of my routine actions - and it feels great. These don't even have to be big, daunting changes; they just have to be small things that I don't usually take the effort to try doing. Initiating to drive the freeway to be a better freeway driver so my dad doesn't feel the need to yell while I'm emotionally struggling in the car. Cooking and experimenting with new foods. Working out first thing in the morning at 6am. Asking questions that I may have been afraid to ask before.

At the end of the day, I learn how to better ignore other people's opinions and just keep going. Confidence and being unfazed by other irrelevant opinions come hand in hand. Slowly but surely, I'm getting there.

Thank you Katty Kay, Claire Shipman, and Sheryl Sandberg. Your words are indelible and have left a great, positive impact. 

the evolution of me

I was rereading my old journal entries and noticed a trend. At the beginning of every new notebook, I start off with optimism and some great paragraph about the refreshing nature of starting a new notebook. It's extremely neat, and every inch of the page is filled. Then, as I proceed throughout the rest of the notebook, the writing becomes messier, there's more attitude and UMPH to my personality, and basically, I become more unfiltered. Some pages are vulgar. Others are show extreme passion about a particular subject. Usually, I sound overly critical and self-deprecating.

Throughout Vol. 1, I continuously write about my goal of sleeping early and rising early. I laugh as I read that now, because I never truly implemented that until this spring. Then there's the issue of self-control. I swear I read the sentence "I lack self-control"at least ten times within fifteen pages. Following that is usually "I must maintain control" or "I must learn control in order to feel like a civilized human being." Mastered it? Nope, self-control is so not in control. Still learning (and probably always will be). And the worst parts of reading this is how obnoxiously dumb I sounded when I wrote about the male species. Oh yes, it happened. The naivete, jealousy, and disoriented realities? Thinking about it makes me cringe. More cringing to commence in future volumes. I excuse myself as I think of the horrid person I was during my first year of college, clearly incompetently transitioning from high school.

Writing in Vol. 2 is the first time I relished in writing in a composition book instead of a spiral bound notebook. Small, strange things like these still excite me. Vol.2 is filled with grotesque complains about running an organization with incompetent staff. Short stories proliferate these pages. There is brainstorming about fantastic sci-fi plots, highlighting main characters and superpowers. There are beautiful words I jot down when reading a novel. Some of the best quotes from peeps, especially Natalie and Leah ("I tried to catch the fog, but I mist. Did you hear about the cross-eyed teacher who lost her job? She couldn't control her pupils. I'm a fermata. Hold me"). Extensive complaints about academics. I consistently and philosophically question morality and the meaning of life.

Now, I'm currently halfway through Vol. 3 (already waiting for the moment when I can whip out a new notebook in a few months). So far, it is mostly filled with some of my favorite quotes I read from great novels and hear from inspiring TED Talks (my favorite so far: "Expected the unexpected, and wherever possible, be the unexpected"). I write about things I feel proud of, and things I need to work on. I continuously remind myself to not care, or at least care a lot less, about what other people think of me. I describe new people I meet, and treasure the genuine moments I have with others. That wonderful feeling of being able to talk for a couple hours with someone I've truly come to respect, admire, and empathize with.

If someone has never met me and only read my journal, that person would likely find me pessimistic and blunt. But isn't that what a journal is for? Journals record my innermost thoughts that simply cannot be transferred through sound waves or understood by another person. It's for me to look back at and laugh at a younger, less mature me, or to realize that I haven't grown at all and should probably go partake in more worldly activities. Journals reflect the worst in me, and sometimes, the best.

I wish I had written during high school. I can't imagine the bizarre things I would have written then, and it would be nice to see how my mind has been molded since.

Almost 2014.

"If you try, you are leagues ahead of any other person who wants to do it but is afraid to." 

- Anna Akana 

If there's anything I've realized these past few days, I've realized that change is scary. Or, in my current condition, that the decision to make change happen is scary. I can only hope that my choice - though it is a safer, less risky choice - will bring me in the right direction.  

I like the New Year. It's a fresh feeling, and as fake and excuse-filled the "New Year, clean slate" theory may sound (I mean, come on. Let's face it. Our past will always come back and haunt us, and the difference between 11:59PM and 12:00AM from December 31 to January 1 doesn't exactly reinvent me as an individual), it still gives me great hope. I feel extra motivated and pumped to actually achieve something when January 1 rolls around. So why not take advantage of my extra energy? Nothing wrong with that.

I spent some time today writing down things I like about myself, things I want to improve on, and then forming my overarching New Year's Resolution: to exercise more self-control. Don't act on emotion, and especially don't let frustration overcome you and take over your decisions in the spur of the moment. In every small action I take, even small things such as eating, studying, and everyday interactions with friends/strangers, I need to be able to discipline myself. I've lacked discipline in so many aspects of my life that have caused me so many tears and regretful moments. 

How funny but unsurprising that it was easy for me to think of a huge list of what I need to improve on, but difficult to think of aspects I liked about myself. Is this human nature? To never be pleased with yourself? It took me a good three minutes to even think of one personality trait or action that I appreciate from myself. Shows how I see myself, and how I consistently view myself in such a negative light.

Maybe the Jessica right now is not someone I particularly like. But that will be changed. And how can I expect other people to like me if I don't even like me? I might be afraid of change, especially change that involves reinventing myself. It's time for me to get over my fear, and take the time to improve myself through constant practice of things I am passionate about. 

Bring it, 2014. 

Am I doing the right thing?

My fall quarter final exams have officially come to an end. Moment entering exam: I can handle this. I've spent countless hours solidifying my understanding of the material. Walking out of exam: Eyes are disoriented, face expressionless, and ultimately looking like a defeated soldier.

Many college students may be able to empathize with me on those cringe-worthy post-final exam moments. Those moments are worthy of great reflection and pondering. It makes me question whether or not I made the right decision to apply to college as an Electrical Engineering major, and if deciding to stick with engineering was a wise decision. All throughout last year, my emotions surrounding my decision to pursue engineering were contradicting on entirely different ends of the spectrum. Sometimes I felt incredibly inspired by the progress and incredible changes engineering has brought to our culture. Google Doodles' Grace Hopper feature gave me the necessary motivation to discipline myself and surge through studying for my exams. Other times, I feel completely out of place. Despite focusing every ounce of energy to the professor during lecture, reviewing and previewing material, and sacrificing sleep to further my studies, I constantly feel unable to master course material. I thought this was a plague for my first year of college, but even as I complete one quarter of my second year, I'm uneasy.

I started this quarter feeling motivated. I was excited to take my first class that began with the label "Electrical Engineering" and believed I had developed better habits and learned lessons from my previous year in college. And now, at the end of fall quarter, I still question whether or not all these struggles with few desirable results are worthwhile of my time and endeavors. It's no secret that engineering school has the reputation of being strenuous and arduous. Some people find it worthwhile. Others wish they had chosen a different career path. Me? I don't know. My feelings vary on a weekly basis. From experience, I have no doubt that there is no satisfaction or joy in a task until I have accomplished it and can perform it to the best of my ability. But being in the fast-paced quarter system, understanding a plethora of physical, mathematical, and circuitry phenomena in a short 10 weeks and being expected to retain this information with only partial understanding are not reasonable goals I should be setting for myself. Moreover, being female in a primarily male-dominated field further increases the chances of my discouragement. There are countless moments in this quarter when I look around my EE class, see no more than 8 other women in the classroom, notice male students staring at female students, and feel ridiculously self-conscious.

After every final exam this week, I have stopped to take some time to worry about the future and connect it to the pathetic and glorious acts I have done in the past. Finals are supposed to be the time for me to concentrate on mastering what I've learned this quarter, but the stress that comes with it has only made me worry more about everything other than finals themselves. I've craved therapeutically blogging and writing in my journal for the past two weeks, but incessant worrying under the demand to study for exams have caused me to become fuzzy-headed and even more conflicted.

But if I were to drastically change my life path, wouldn't I have more challenges to face? More complaints? Wishing I had done this instead of that?

Time to focus on the present and take one step at a time. I need to take baby steps and re-evaluate myself.

The worst part is realizing (as I wrote the previous sentence) how many times I have told myself that I need to re-evaluate each little choice I make in life that can boil the strongest emotions within me.

It's like a never-ending cycle.

Scatterbrained.

I've recently felt like my mind is everywhere. I'm having so many ambitious visions about my future and trying to learn new skills that my focus on my engineering studies has drifted to la-la land. One morning I wake up determined to brainstorm and write an outline for my book. The next day I suddenly really want to learn biology. An hour later I feel like composing a solo piece for cello. Then, before I know it, I want to refine my skills in Matlab, Python, and C++ all at the same time. This is me envisioning some supernatural version of myself successfully doing all this on top of my coursework.

My roommates constantly comment on how I seem to always be busy, writing like a maniac at my desk, reading something from my computer, or attending a meeting. Do you have time for yourself? Yes, I do. Every moment is time given for myself, but since my time is devoted to things that are drastically different, I am inefficient. I need to regain my focus and concentrate on one thing at a time.

My dreams of being an indie author, performing in Royce Hall, and saving the world from delirious diseases can wait. But this is only a short wait.

Breaking Out of Routine

Since I started my collegiate studies, I've always preferred a steady schedule with few surprises, where I can easily outline my routine for the next week. It makes me feel like I have control over my life in many aspects... study, class, diet, and exercise, to name a few. I had been so fixed on maintaining constants in my life that I come up with the greatest excuses and do whatever it takes to avoid adjustments.

Yet today, as I reflect on the events that took place these past four days, I realize how my insistence in staying in "routine" has only shown my selfishness and cowardice. Yes, I am not accustomed to Taiwanese foods, I abhor jet-lag, and I am likely the most fidgety person on a 12-hour plane ride.

But I barely made it on time.

She wasn't conscious when I rushed to the hospital. I could hear and see her breathing, her chest heaving up and down as she struggled to gulp for air. She's still here, I thought. She won't go quickly, she was just talking to me on the phone two days ago.. Feeling slightly less tense, I left the hospital, ready for a good night's sleep and prepared to spend the entire day with her in the hospital the next day. She'll wake up tomorrow, I thought.

A 5am phone call woke me and the rest of the family. She was in trouble, and her lungs were failing. We all rushed to the hospital, breathless. I looked at the Blood Pressure and Heart monitor; her heartbeat was abnormally fast, although steady. With other organs gradually failing, her heart was pumping faster than usual. Her blood pressure was far too low, but consistent. For the next few hours, everyone walked anxiously in and out of the ward.

At 10:22am, I saw the Blood Pressure and Heart monitor numbers declining rapidly. Her heart rate had fallen to 60 beats per minute, and within the next minute, it fell to 50 beats per minute. Out of nowhere, the screen showed an unwanted question mark and the nurses came rushing in. Before I knew it, the hospital staff were shaking their heads with apologetic faces. Tears rushed to my eyes, and I sobbed uncontrollably. I looked to my left, and I saw my cousin and dad fighting tears.

My paternal grandmother is the third person I've lost in my life to cancer. Both of my maternal grandparents left several years ago from cancer as well, and when I saw my paternal grandmother lying helplessly in the ward, memories of seeing others in a fragile state, fighting cancer to their fullest extent, came swerving back. And these memories hit me hard.

I've been out of summer classes for nearly four weeks now. Yet, the thought of going back to Taiwan to see my grandma while she was still alive, communicating with the people around her, never hit me. Why? I could think of so many excuses that had crossed my mind: I needed a "break" after classes, I can't sit long enough for an airplane ride to the other side of the country, Taiwanese people eat food that I can't stand to even look at, it's too hot and humid for me there, and I won't be using a bathroom with proper toilet paper (this is real - my paternal grandparents' house doesn't only lack WiFi, but also lacks trashcans and toilet paper) are among them.

A day before I arrived, my grandma's eyes were open, and her voice carried a strength that made everyone believe she was getting well. I could have spoken with her, and laughed with her. But I didn't, all because I truly believed that my life would just be so incredibly out-of-sync if I did. I used to think I was a grateful, giving individual. I loved giving to the community and helping my neighborhood. Now, I understand how selfish I am for not even being able to change some routines for a couple days to see one of the most important people in my life and joke with her the way we used to when she was healthy. Something so simple was something I still couldn't accomplish.

As I'm choosing the music for her funeral and writing about the joyful memories my grandma and I share, I've come to realize that these past few days have been filled with self-reflection and self-doubt. I know my grandma would encourage me to learn from my experiences, and move on tomorrow to be a person who is stronger, fiercer, and more intelligent than the individual I was yesterday.

And I know that I am.

Rest in peace, grandma. I love you.

"Engaging Young Minds"

Thursday, August 1, 2013 -

On behalf of BEAM with Perry, Liz, and Emily, I had the opportunity to participate in a panel, which was part of a 4-day teacher workshop, Engaging Young Minds. The audience of about 100+ mostly consisted of elementary school teachers. With the new state standards putting emphasis on the engineering design process and STEM in general, it is understandable that many educators feel anxious and slightly intimidated. I thought back to elementary school, when my teachers at each grade level were required to teach absolutely everything - Science, Math, English, History... even when they probably didn't specialize in that particular field! By introducing educators to BEAM and sharing our elementary school experiences with science, our goal was to show that science isn't such a terrifying subject. Science provides a plethora of opportunity to learn and enlivens curiosity within young children.

When we arrived at the venue, the first thing I noticed were the packages filled with indiscernible objects near front of the auditorium. I later learned that these materials were provided by Trash for Teaching. Educators were working on a hands-on project during the workshop with the materials. I loved the message conveyed: you can learn science with simple, everyday materials. There's no need to be spending big bills on fancy, enigmatic equipment.

The packages supplied by Trash for Teaching.

 The general outline of the panel:

1. Presentation time! We opened up the panel by introducing some of the departments within the School of Engineering, transitioning to a brief talk on the Blackawton Bees study (all done by kids ages 8-12), introducing BEAM, and then sharing our experiences with science when we were in elementary school. 
2. Demonstrations of some of BEAM's showcase lessons: stomp rockets, microscopes, zip-line balloon racers, rubber band cars, and lung models.
3. Concluded with a fabulous Q&A session.

During the presentation, I learned something about myself: I've gradually grown out of my anxiety for speaking in front of large audiences. In the past, I gave presentations with smaller audiences of no more than 40 people. Being able to participate in a panel to share my thoughts and stories about a matter I care deeply about brought out a rather talkative side of me. And, most importantly, I realized how important it is to educate others about STEM, and how sciences and arts are inherently connected. Small sidetrack: I was talking with Liz and she mentioned how there was talk about "S.T.E.M" being adapted to "S.T.E.A.M." - science, technology, engineering, arts, and mathematics. I like that change - let's all start hash-tagging #STEAM in our twitter and facebook accounts.

Many of the teachers were intrigued and impressed by BEAM's student-designed lesson plans. Some spontaneously asked me for advice and feedback on their current lessons. How can I include hands-on experimentation with a topic like ecology? How should I have them better understand the concept of erosion? I then recognized my broad knowledge of science, creatively thinking of ways for elementary school teachers to incorporate the engineering design process in their curricula. It also delights me that teachers were interested in having passionate BEAM mentors visit their classrooms and work with their students.

After the panel, I reflected more about my education as a kid. In elementary school, I really did have great instructors who encouraged me to experiment with science and discover new things - we had science fair projects and Elmer's tri-fold posters to work with, hands-on activities with rocks and minerals, astrocamp... I definitely liked science when I was younger and realized how ubiquitous it is. The funny part: while this should have prompted me to pursue a degree in STEM fields, the fact that science is everywhere scared me. It felt like too much for me to handle at that time. Math and science were probably my weakest subjects when I was younger, and I didn't have the mindset to pursue those subjects then. I surprised myself when I selected Electrical Engineering as my major on all my college applications two years ago. So what happened in-between?

The major change took place in high school. Ironically, I was part of a humanities-based program in high school which put a lot of focus on writing. Every day, I was writing... writing about Nietzsche, Danto, existentialism, Jared Diamond's Guns, Germs, and Steel, and the list goes on. All this extensive writing fostered my critical thinking skills and helped me become a better communicator, and I am beyond thankful to my high school education for providing me these skills. I was also very lucky to have some great math and science teachers in high school. Three years of math with Mr. Butler and one year of physics with Ms. Blumfield (but really two years, considering how much I visited her classroom in senior year) sealed the deal for me. Despite some ridiculous homework problems (would I really slide my book on an icy surface and then calculate the conservation of momentum?), great instruction from 10th to 12th grade made me love physics and math. I even surprised my self by opting to self-study for AP Physics C in senior year.

While the discussion on Thursday did claim that students tend to make a decision about whether or not they like science in 3rd-5th grade, I know that there people like myself who didn't decide to pursue a career in STEM until their late teens. I never quite realized how the people around me played such a critical role in inspiring me about STEM, leading me to choose the career path I am pursuing today.

The lovely view from the 3rd floor of Boetler Hall.

And here I am, learning a little more every day, hoping that in the near future, I can contribute something beneficial for many communities I belong to.

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.