Thursday, January 30, 1997
CHOICES:
Living life as a dreamer diverts one away from intended
goalsShakespeare referred to the unknown as the undiscovered
country. It also made for a catchy Star Trek movie title. As not
all students have left their destinies to the mercy of the Fates,
some have taken the initiative and carefully designed, plotted and
planned out every nook and cranny of their respective future career
and/or academic goals.
Yet, for the rest of those whose impending post-graduate plans
continue to reside in limbo, the present can be a most
anxiety-ridden period of life.
At my freshman convocation, a professor gave a rousing speech
urging us bright-eyed students to seize the day. "Carpe diem!" his
voice resounded over and over again throughout the tennis court
stadium.
I wasn’t really paying attention at the time. The Korean drum
performers drew my interest, and the guy who couldn’t quite hit the
high note on his rendition of the national anthem was equally
amusing in a pitiable sort of way. Yet, for the duration of the
ceremony, my thoughts were on the free food at the athletic field
and the potentially free knickknacks from KROQ. Although all I
ended up with was a disgusting, half-eaten veggie burger by the end
of the day, the anonymous professors speech endured in my
memory.
In reflection, the gist of the message was admirable  live
each day to the fullest, take full advantage of every opportunity
and seize the moment. A rather encouraging, if trite, sort of pep
talk. Nonetheless, I took the concept to heart.
In fact, one might even credit the incorporation of this
wonderfully arty Latin phrase into my personal set of beliefs as a
major reason for my departure from a short-lived pre-med career.
The problem was, my interpretation of carpe diem entailed playing
basketball every night of the week and waiting until the last
minute to study for a genetics or organic chemistry midterm. I
figured if I wasted actual time studying for my science classes on
a daily, regimented basis, then I would betray my noble ideals of
living life to the fullest. Consequently, the gradual decline in my
once mighty GPA dictated that I consider career options other than
medicine.
Currently, one can find the majority of my friends and
acquaintances spending time in prep courses for the medical school
entrance exam. I don’t know whether they made any alternative
arrangements should the medical school route not work out, but the
thought of risking four years of an expensive undergraduate
education on one exam always scared the hell out of me.
It always seemed to me that no matter the amount of time put
into planning or studying, the fate of most pre-professional
students always hinged on one big test. What’s worse is that all
the hours, tears, death-threats to professors (I’ve actually had
two professors who’ve had to endure that) and all-nighters put into
the previous three or four years will buy you nothing in the end if
you don’t ace the exam.
The concept of living for today invariably takes a back seat to
the notion of sacrificing today for a better tomorrow, as students
dedicate each passing moment to the fulfillment of a future goal
which may or may not blossom to fruition.
However, this inverted take on the theory of carpe diem is the
only remedy one can swallow to soothe the modern ailments of
intense competition in the postgraduate academic and career fields.
Social Darwinism in our time dictates that those with the most
extensive educational backgrounds will go on to gain economic
success. By the same token, one can obtain that vaunted extensive
education only through life-consuming study and resume building
tactics such as internships, research projects and other volunteer
activities.
The latter leads to what I call mercenary academics. Mercenary
academics perfectly complement the pragmatic philosophy of our
"what-can-you-do-for-me" world. Occasionally, but not always, this
facet of resume-building entails free student labor in exchange for
expected letters of recommendation. Sometimes, the research project
or volunteer activity might provide an added and genuine personal
benefit to the student-slave laborer such as the peace of mind that
comes with the knowledge of a job well done. More frequently,
students just can’t wait for that letter.
People on this campus often tend to lose sight of why they’re
engaged in doing certain things that they’re involved with. Looking
too far off into the future can induce that.
During my second year at UCLA, I enjoyed a stint as a tutor with
one of the tutorial projects on campus. My particular assignment
involved going to an elementary school on weekends and helping out
a grade schooler with homework and such. I met only resistance
despite my best efforts to instill some sort of academic discipline
in my tutee. I ended up playing baby-sitter throughout my
tenure.
For a while, I couldn’t figure out why the kid was giving me
such a hard time. He’d show up to our meetings without his
homework. He’d start staring off into space when I was speaking.
More often, his mind was on something I couldn’t see and he was
happy with just the present.
At this point, I wish I could write something meaningful about
how the kid I tutored embodied all the good points of living in the
moment and not being hung up with worries about the future.
Something to that effect.
However, the sad truth is that if the kid doesn’t shape up and
get into the rat race with the rest of his classmates, then he’ll
be serving burgers, fries and soft drinks at a fast food franchise
sometime in the not too distant future. Maybe he’ll take my
order.
Or maybe I’ll work the cashier next to him. The world doesn’t
reward dreamers. And professors don’t prance around a classroom
inspiring students with joyous shouts of "carpe diem!" a la Robin
Williams.
No, the professor at my convocation had it all wrong. He
shouldn’t have urged us to "seize the day". He should have expected
us to live for an undiscovered country.
Chieh Chieng