Self Improvement

I will be working as a software engineer at Facebook starting January next year.

I have many reasons why I made such a choice. Frankly, money tops this list. Many of my school friends are aware of the numerous jobs I held while at Mudd. Few know of the exact number of hours; even fewer know the reasons behind why I had to work so hard; why I had to sacrifice my learning and health. Just a handful understand that, to me, graduating early with a job in hand is not an achievement, but a punishment.

Working at one of the highest paying companies sitting at the heart of Silicon Valley is a magic wand to my financial problems, many of which have been crippling me inside out.

But this note isn’t for me to brag about how hard I worked or how successful I am — quite the opposite.

To ____, I am yet another person joining the programming bubble, making six digits as a newly graduated 21 year old.

To ____, I am yet another privileged and spoiled being chasing money because I was given all the chances to do so.

To ____, I am a fraud who blabbers about her interests in math and education, yet turns to work at something entirely irrelevant.

To ____, I am a daughter who gave her mother bragging rights during afternoon gossip sessions.

To ____, I am a person of which envy and hatred is deserved and received.

To me, ____ is me.

Dear me,

Remember your purpose. What you wished to do was far from what you could do. It is not your fault that you’ve had to trek rougher paths. It is difficult saying yes to things that would help you farther down the way; it is difficult saying no to things that would help you at the moment.

Remember your purpose. You are young; you have time. Let time bring you the resources and people you need in your life, but don’t let time erase what you can really do for the world with these resources and these people. You are young; you have energy. Work hard to earn your worth and reciprocate by remembering this world is not lived alone.

Remember your purpose. You have experienced the bitterness of the cold winds that blow hope away, and you understand the feeling of despair and grief. Do what you can to never let anyone experience the same. Bring others help when you see that they are standing in your shoes from the past. Remember that light at the end of the tunnel is from a source; be the source when you’ve once received from it.

Your workplace does not define you; but have fun, and never cease learning. Keep in mind the consequences of your actions, and the impact it will have on literally billions of people.

Your education does not define you; but remember this regret that you feel from cutting yourself off from the fountains of knowledge, and return to them when you are able.

Your purpose will define you. Hold onto it tight; tighter as you drift off, swayed by life’s storms.

Dear me, remember you will have all the time and energy and resources one day to make the impact you wish to make; be patient and wary.

Dear Teacher,

The moment we say goodbye to our mommies and daddies and nannies as we walk into our first day of classes, you are our now our guardian. From here on out you are the one holding our hands; the one to tell us what to do and what not to do; what to love and what to laugh at; what to learn and what to be curious about.

Your every “hello” and “goodbye” and “have a great weekend” are signs we are loved and cared for; even your scoldings are bittersweet ordeals, if met with candy, literally or figuratively, afterwards. You introduce chords and melodies into the orchestra of life; ones we have never heard of before.

Sometimes they sound so beautiful and harmonic, but other times they sound awful or, worse, don’t sound like much at all. Your ignorant dismissals make us feel insignificant. We are not machines that take your orders. We do not produce the same result every time. You sometimes forget that machines are not taught, they are programmed. We are not machines.

Still, you are the reason why some of us willingly wake up at 6am ten or so years into school. You are the reason why on cloudier days we can still find sunshine. Your hand reaches to help us out of ditches in our roads, and you are the guide and pacer in this marathon when we have no sense of direction or speed. You help us build the bridges to cross many rivers, you lend us your shoulders and backs to reach higher peaks.

You are also the reason some others of us forever shove our backpacks into cobwebbed corners. You are also sometimes the reason why the lightbulb dims and the melody turns monotone and sad. You become just as insignificant in our lives as we are to yours. You forget we have lives, we forget you do, too.

Indeed, you are also the one to push us into things as well as push us away from them. We recognize your love and passion for a subject and mimic the same excitement as our heart beats just as rapidly as yours. We are asked to remain curious and inspired with every thoughtful question you hand us. We are challenged to love challenges and to stand back up from falls.

But we also recognize your boredom and distaste. It is difficult for us to remain colorful in dullness. Each of your requests for uniformity and correctness erases a little bit of us. We become machines. Bored and boring machines. Nameless, faceless.

One day, we will have students of our own. You will have told us many things when we were your students, but you will have also told us many other things that we will only understand once we stand in your shoes. Some things, you will not have told us at all, left as a door for us only to discover what’s behind on our own.

When such a day comes that we have our own smaller hands to hold, it is our hope we understand what intentions you may or may not have had.

When such a day comes, we hope to have a hand to offer. We hope to have the same energy that we so delighted in; we hope to learn to love to teach others just as we learned to love to learn; we hope to sing the same beautiful songs and wave just as many “hellos” and “goodbyes”.

So, dear Teacher, please remember:

we will be you one day, so be the You you want us to be.

little white fang

when I need to yell at the world

Dear me, remember your purpose.

Dear Teacher