Friday, July 07, 2006

Realizations of the week

Realizations of the week:
  1. Ergonomics are important.
  2. Embedded systems are awesome.
  3. I am female.
Ergonomics are important.

I used to laugh at people that bought expensive chairs and keyboards, and weird curvy mice, and wrist braces and such. Three years later, I now have a funky ergonomic keyboard, a weird curvy mouse, and wrist braces. My body is much happier (my back and wrists are learning). I've also learned that spending an hour or two setting your workstation up just right is time that's more than gained back in the increased productivity later on; I don't care if you have to prop your monitor up on textbooks to bring it to the right height; just do it.


Embedded systems are awesome.

I've rambled happily on this at length, I'm sure, but I've found my Happy Place (tm) as a Real ECE - or at least I know how I might become one. I've been around long enough to pick up the words that I need to understand in order to learn how to be a proper ECE. Never mind that it feels like I should have reached this point at the end of my freshman year instead of the beginning of my senior year. I'll make the best of it.

Electrical engineering is a hard thing to start learning. With software, you can use a relatively high-level language like Python, click and install, type "print hello world," and you're in business. With something mechanical, where you might get some helpful klunking noises and can hear/see/feel what's broken or not working.

The trouble with getting started in electrical engineering is that you need to have started in everything to get started in anything. If something tiny - be it software, hardware, high or low level - in an electrical system isn't working, nothing will work. It will just sit there, leaving you to curse the LED for not blinking. Chicken and egg.

But I now have something to start with, and having learned to flounder in the completely nonintuitive (to me) Pool of ECE with no background whatsoever, I think that I can be thrown into the deep end of any pool and be expected to learn how to flounder in a productive manner that will someday emerge as swimming. If that's all I learn or remember from three years of Olin, I'd say it was time and sleeplessness well spent.

I am female.

Unfortunately, these sorts of things appear to matter when you're in a technical discipline.

When I (a not entirely incompetent ECE) go out with a bunch of male MechEs, and we run into other tech geeks who wants to talk about engineering or similar, I expect them to speak to the MEs more when talking about ME stuff, since they know about that kind of thing and I don't as much. Echo for bio stuff for BioEs, matsci stuff for E:Matscis, and so forth. This does in fact happen; it's logical.

I also somewhat stupidly expect them to talk more to me when speaking of ECE stuff, since... ah, I'm an ECE. Instead, what usually happens is that they speak entirely to the MEs (if the MEs happen to be male) when speaking about ECE stuff, despite my introduction as the only ECE of the group, and several interjections of "yeah, Mel's done that" or "actually, one of my projects was..." It is only when I am in a group of entirely female non-ECEs that I am actually spoken to as an ECE.

I used to carry around math textbooks, science classics, and Shakespeare when I was in elementary and middle school so nobody would make assumptions and start speaking in monosyllables to me because of my hearing aids. Do I need to start toting the Art of Electronics around and wearing a Maxwell's Equations t-shirt in order to be seen as an electrical engineer?

Monday, June 19, 2006

The making of a student

The PICDEM FS USB board can be configured to enable or disable its various hardware features... the user will need to cut the traces, and install pins and a block jumper.

"Ah," thought I. "All I have to do is cut the traces and install pins and a block jumper!"

1. Cut the traces.

I've learned that the best way to cut traces is- well, probably not the way I just cut traces, which is to scrape and scrape and scrape with the xacto and pray that you don't hit anything important, like your finger. The result looks like a very tiny (yet vicious) cat has chosen your PCB as its new scratching post. This may in fact be a better way to do it: breed tiny vicious cats.

The Mel is finally metamorphing into a Real ECE. Took long enough, really; it's been 2 years and 9 months since I saw my first soldering iron, and I'm just getting comfortable doing really simple things like - oh, soldering an LED onto a circuit board, and calculating a voltage divider. I'm a slow learner.

Part of the difficulty is because I never really got anyone to follow around; I could ask my dad marketing questions at the dinner table, went to high school with a couple of very good programmers, grew up with a wonderful piano teacher. I've tried to learn electrical engineering wholly from books, but the field is so large and growing so fast that there was no such thing as a "How to learn to be an electrical engineer" book that I could launch off from (I'm not talking about an Intro to ECE textbook; I'm talking about something akin to Eric Raymond's essay "How to become a Hacker").

I'm trying to fix that now. When you're learning something, the best thing you can have is a good teacher that really takes you in, almost adopts you; this doesn't mean they'll fuss over you (quite the opposite), or that they'll never let you go solo. It means they'll keep an eye out, let you tag along, challenge you, teach you how to fly on your own. I've filled that role too often for too long; sometimes I need to go back and be small again. I think it's working.

It feels really good to have mentors. I haven't let anyone teach me for so long. (Sorry, Olin profs... I've been a poor student these past three years. Hopefully I'll be better for this last one.)

Monday, June 12, 2006

Backstage in the kitchen

It's wonderful to not have to teach any more. Design Continuum (where I'm working - see?) is fantastic, like Olin only with older people with more experience, and no homework. The project I'm working on in my "free time" at work is basically POE + UOCD. I am estatic. For the first time since... well, kindergarten - I'm serious - I am in a place where I am completely incapable of helping anyone else. I have nothing to teach. It's impossible for me to tutor. What I can do is ask lots of questions of everyone else, and try as best as I can to learn. And WHOOSH!

I've never learned so much so fast. And until I stopped doing it two weeks ago, I never realized how much time I spend teaching other people things. I love doing it, but gosh, it feels good not to feel obligated to (since I can't) and I have much more free time. I've got to do this more. I've been teaching for 15 years. It's high time for a sabbatical, even if it lasts all of 2 months. So I'm learning how to not be a teacher; instead, I'm finally learning how to be a student

Why is it that whenever an Oliner finds a happy place, they always compare it to Olin?

The other revelation is that Blue Ribbon BBQ is the best stuff ever. It's across the street from my office, and my coworkers have been raving about it, but I never actually tried any of their stuff until I cooked in the kitchen on Saturday night. I'd volunteered to help with the Bikes Not Bombs bike-a-thon, and the chef I was helping turned out to be the man behind Blue Ribbon, so I got to make industrial-size tubs of salsa, saw fresh spinach and radishes for the first time in my life (you mean it it doesn't come in plastic bags all the time?), and learned a lot about cooking in the process. They've got a totally sweet wood-burning oven, and incredible amounts of meat everywhere. And the food. Is fantastic. And so are the people. They've just won a customer for the rest of summer - and I'm definitely helping with the bike-a-thon next year; I want to get back inside that kitchen.

Thursday, May 25, 2006

Summer = explosion of energy

I'm writing this email from MIT's Pika house, where I crashed on Matt Ritter's floor last night (he's temporarily staying in "The Coffin," which is a tiny attic with a tunnel-like space under the eaves for sleeping that looks like a crypt. He slept there, I managed to fit halfway under the desk, there was no other floor space.

Pika's as opposite from Olin's dorms as you can get. Paint is everywhere. Shoes are stuck to the ceiling. Murals. Loads o' junk. Nail holes. A machine shop in the basement. Random junk, castoff furniture, plywood and bolted-together chaos. And you know what? I like it. I've always wanted to live in non-shiny spaces. I mean, I love clean drywall and tasteful lamps, but sometimes the bohemian aesthetic is pretty darn liberating. I'm sure my parents would disagree.

Anyhow, I'm here to work on the website for the Vehicle Design Summit (VDS), which begins on June 12 (so we'd better have it up by then). Sold my soul to the Organizational Necessities last night as Matt and I spent several hours with Gannt charts and to-do lists; painful, but it'll enable us to concentrate so much more on hacking later on. For my part, I'm happy to not see a to-do list for a while. I want to go sink my head into Plone modules and PHP. I'm always afraid that I've turned into too much of a planner/manager and not enough of an engineer, and I think the solution to that is to Hack More.

Thinkcycle is exploding. I'm awed at the amount of work Ben and Chandra have poured into this in the last 24 hours (from the volume of emails, I swear Ben is doing this full-time right now). We're still trying to find our compass, but we're running so fast I think we'll hit it before we hit a wall. Working with the two of them is like the energy high I got from working on VDS with Matt last night, or even cleaning the suite with Eric on move-out evening. Good people get you in the flow state. I'm slowly learning how to make that happen more.

My grades are in, and they're non-catastrophic enough that I think my parents won't kill me. I've gone through the progression I wanted to - from caring too much about getting good grades (middle and high school) to trying not to care but caring anyway (first 3 semesters at Olin) to caring but doing poorly (4th and 5th semesters at Olin) to truly not caring and still doing well in my own way (now). I'd like to say that semesters 4 and 5 were deliberately planned to desensitize me from grades, but a more accurate depiction would be that it happened, I realized at the start of the ride that it'd likely desensitize me, and went along - although I think part of what I needed to pull out of the grades thing was a feeling of lacking control over them, just for a year.

Olin has slowly changed how I think and become aware of learning and teaching. It's still in the vague transitional phase where I can' write down how, though. I need something to accelerate the process - I need to go to some other school for a while and get shocked into seeing Olin culture from the outside again. Still figuring out how to do this.

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

begin(decompression);

The day after move-out, and I'm back in the Olin library to drop off a present and look for some books. This school appears to be hard-coded into my DNA.

Congratulations, '06. You've left quite a legacy to live up to, but we'll do our best.

It hasn't yet hit me that we have alumni, that my class is seniors, and that '06 won't be coming back next year. I've been too busy and exhausted to process anything of that magnitude, but since I slept for 12 hours last night (the first time in 3 weeks I've slept for more than 4 continuous hours, the average sleep-time being ~2.5) it'll probably hit soon.

In the last 48 hours, I've...
  • Ridden to the airport between JP's bike and Rayona's luggage, with my knees scrunched up in the fetal position because there was No Other Room
  • Gone on a late-night cleaning frenzy with Eric Gallimore to get our suite in shape before people discovered we were still vacuuming 5 hours after we were supposed to move out (VanWyk, you left two books and your plant behind).
  • Given my cousin Audrey multiple piggyback rides, which in retrospect wasn't such a great idea since my back had just finished hauling luggage
  • Watched the first Commencement. It was the most exciting graduation ceremony I've ever seen. Two especially cool things: the diplomas are the golden ratio, and each senior gets to have a quote of their choice read as they recieve theirs (I'm starting to think of mine).
  • Packed
  • Packed
  • Packed
  • Realized that if it weren't for my books and computer stuff, everything I own in the world would easily fit within my (smallish) car trunk. With them, everything I own in the world fits within the trunk, back seat, passenger seat, and another car trunk.

Summer plans? I'm living in the dorms at Olin and working in the ECE department of Design Continuum, a product design firm in Newton. I'm also doing part-time research building some equipment and software for Ozgur's design lab at Olin, and doing some freelance coding for a web startup in Somerville. I'm also volunteer co-webmaster (with Steve) for the Vehicle Design Summit at MIT and working on the redesign of Thinkcycle with Ben and Chandra (long-distance, since he's in Texas and she's in Europe). It will be a gloriously busy summer. I need a gloriously busy summer to refresh and rest myself up from the last two years. I have a weird way of taking vacations.

And now, time to think.

Saturday, May 13, 2006

Reflections on finals week

A list of lessons I'm still trying to drill into my head.
  1. Saying no is okay. See "How To Say No" by Richard Brenner for a lovely primer. If I do not say no, other people will say no for me; if I want to be able to say no for myself, I need to say it more often.
  2. (courtesy Amanda) Sometimes it's more important to get it done than to do it perfectly. Your ego does not need to make every piece of work a gorgeous work of genius; sometimes you just need to get some things done quickly so you can spend your time on what actually counts.
  3. Your time is both finite and valuable. Use accordingly.
  4. Sometimes to be unselfish in the long term, you've got to be selfish in the short term. Look out for yourself so nobody else has to.
  5. You don't react well to caffeine. Seriously. Haven't you learned this already?
In other news, on Tuesday I proceeded to become a non-teenager as quietly as everyone else would allow me to; my birthday fell on the first day of finals, and I didn't want to be distracting, but my friends brought in a cake anyhow.

I never expected to live to be this old; through much of my childhood I thought for some reason I'd die in my teens. (Of course, now that I'm past them, I'm effectively immortal.) I've always thought of 20 as the threshold into adulthood, and I suppose it has been. At this time last year, I still thought of myself as a child. Now I think of myself as an adult. Not a particularly good one yet, but an adult.

I'd also like to say that I absolutely love working with my Robotics team. Between Matt, Andrew, and myself, we probably have enough on our collective plate to level a small army with exhaustion. I think it's because of this common understanding of pwnedness that we work so well together. Which reminds me - I'm supposed to be making that Expo poster right now.

DJ roped a couple of us into playing Muse's "Time is Running Out" for ExpressO this coming week. He's on bass, I'm on keyboard doubling up on the guitar part with Matt, Eric's drumming, and Amanda is on vocals. Jamming is addictive. I get sucked into music when I play it even alone, but when your music meshes with everyone else's, and everyone's going off partly on the fly, then... wow. I want to do this more! I wonder if I'll have time next year to do jam, either informally, with the Muse group, or even taking keyboard lessons (something I've wanted to do since I had to stop piano in 8th grade).

The bad part is that keyboarding, both the computer kind and the piano kind, is becoming hell on my wrists. I've got a family history of carpal tunnel, and I started feeling slight signs of it when I was 18; now that I'm 20, I'm thinking that it's going to start pushing into the threshold of pain within the next 2-3 years unless I do something. I've been wearing wrist braces and shelled out for an ergonomic keyboard, but it keeps on coming. I'm not sure what I'm going to do about this; any suggestions are very much welcome.

End braindump.

Monday, May 08, 2006

Old-school Chinese marriage restrictions

I don't get this. Can someone please explain to me what the trouble is with
  • boys marrying girls who are taller than them, and
  • girls marrying boys who are less educated than them?

Not that these are hard-and-fast requirements for me (or that, y'know, I'm planning to get married in the first place), but I've heard enough talk about them around the family circle that I'm curious as to whether they're old-school Chinese or just old-school... whatever. It's not so much a "thou shalt not" as it is "You know, boys generally don't like girls who have higher degrees..." comment. Anyone ever heard similar? What do you think?

Thursday, May 04, 2006

Mom & me

[paraphrased from our last five emails]

Mom: Come visit us at home this summer!
Me: I might be able to come for a week before work starts.
Mom: You can even have your dental appointment when you visit. I'll schedule one.
Me: You really know how to make me look forward to coming home.
Mom: Love you too.

Sunday, April 30, 2006

Post-Olin options

You know what I just realized?

I don't have to get a job or go to grad school in engineering after Olin. (Yeah, yeah. "What took her so long?") I can find a way to do anything I want, including becoming an art student, which is what I dreamed of studying when I was applying to college, and still secretly really want to try (I was going to study abroad in Italy this year, but didn't have the language prerequisites to take the art classes I would be going for in the first place). So I could...

  • Work for a design firm
  • Grad school in engineering
  • Go to art school, studying drawing, graphic design, digital media & interface design
  • Volunteer overseas (Peace Corps or something)
  • Teach (for America, or otherwise; abroad, even)
  • Grad school in education
  • Travel the country interviewing teachers and writing a book on engineering education
  • Anything Else In The World
Some of these will obviously be harder than others; some I'd have to work full-time and study evenings, some I'll have to live in lousy apartments and eat ramen out of my car, but that's fine; I don't need much to live, and in a pinch I can always tutor kids in math. I'm not trapped, and I'm nowhere near screwed, and I can become an art student or whatever I want to be. I can. It's okay. And not a waste of my life at all. I'm not obligated to become an engineer and a professor of engineering straight off the bat. Or ever. And I'm grown now and don't have to ask my parents' permission.

GLORY. I FEEL FREE.

The Gift

Ran across this John Maeda post that I'd like to share. Original at http://plw.media.mit.edu/people/maeda/posts/thegift.html

My favorite parts:

What Sasaki meant, I think, is that it is a real gift to think of all kinds of things you can possibly do. Unfortunately, it can be a curse because it prevents you from ever doing anything at all... So the gift of ideas, is the curse of doing nothing.

And then this...

"Doing" is outright dirty in the land of pure academia. There is a saying that supports this mindset with negative connotations, "Those who do, do. Those who can't, teach." I would change this to, "Those who are young, should do. Those who teach, should do too." Do not waste your precious gift while young and able. Do. And do not fear the curse of "the gift."

That's pretty much what I needed to hear at this point in my life. I think I'm going to nail the words "DO SOMETHING" to my wall, no matter where I happen to live; it means a lot on a myriad of levels to me, and is a reminder to kick my butt into the right kind of action.

Now off to do something.

Saturday, April 29, 2006

Inter-class rifts & apathy: last year's take

Found this on my D: drive while cleaning out old stuff. It's from the end of last year when the upper-lower class rift and apathy were big concerns for many students; slightly outdated now, but still interesting especially since '08 is now the sophomore class and we have a new group of freshmen (who are different from classes which preceded them, as all four classes differ from each other).

Thoughts welcome. Old text, unedited, follows; it looks like I emailed this to some people, but I don't remember who. Have things changed? How much of the concerns have we fixed, what do we still need to deal with, and what will never go away?



Thoughts on the upper-lower class rift, and lack of involvement.

First: This is nobody's fault. I'm not trying to point the finger. However, this is everyone's responsibility. I know I feel the need to Do Something, and I think others feel the same way.

What follows is a transcribed version of some thoughts I had over the weekend; I'm trying to process them into more useful form, but I wanted to make the raw stuff available to you all, just in case. They won't be particularly coherent and will likely be self-contradictory at times. Don't feel obligated to read this if you're busy - just take a glance if you're interested. I really want to talk to people about this, so if you feel like talking, let me know.

-Mel

Upperclassmen have grown and turned outside Olin for some of our activities - jobs, classes, clubs, organizations; we're looking forward and preparing to leave, trying to learn about industry and grad school.

We, the upperclassmen, had strong mentoring. The partners were mentored by the faculty, the juniors by the partners, and the sophomores by the juniors (an oversimplification, but you get the idea). Because we were mentored so well, we mentor others in turn - but this ethos needs to be passed down, and it is fading over time.

Frosh need to realize they can and should take the initiative. And it's not just frosh, not by far. We all need to realize this (students, staff, and faculty). You can't just move when asked - you need to be doing the asking.

The first class took tremendous ownership of the college, and the second class took a little - and now it still seems like Olin "belongs" to '06 and '07. This is great. However, '08 comes in, sees Olin belonging to the older students, and lets it belong to them - so it doesn't belong as much to the frosh this year.

"Oh, we aren't as senior as they are. We should follow and respect their seniority and when we're older it will be our turn to lead." I appreciate that they respect what we've already done, but just because we've been here before doesn't mean they shouldn't come in.

The flip side of that is independence as a class. "The college already belongs to them; they're working together, they don't need us. Well, I reckon we should meander amongst ourselves. Maybe we don't need them so much either. We can do whatever we want to. If we're crazy enough, they might listen. Since we're 'outside the system,' that's the only way we can change things - by being radical."

This, in turn, leads to: "Those crazy immature kids! I try to teach them, but they aren't grown enough to listen." (I'm stereotyping and oversimplifying like crazy here - we love the first-years, we really do; but sometimes there seems between the classes the sort of attitude an older sister takes when she watches her little brother swagger into the kitchen with green hair and a nose piercing. Gross, gross oversimplification; it's not all like this, it's not one-way, but sometimes it happens.)

There has been concern expressed by some upperclassmen that some frosh are undertaking increasingly dangerous exploits - things that are on the fine boundary between being awesomely offbeat and inventive and adventurous vs being a little too crazy, a little too dangerous, a little too much potential for harm without precautions being taken to really minimize those dangers. We care about you guys, and we don't want anything to happen to you - but we don't say you can't do this, or wag our fingers in front of your face. Ought we to?

The upper classes were thrust into leadership. There simply was nobody else around to lead. If we didn't, everything would break down. In contrast, '08 arrived to a school that was already running; they /could/ take on leadership - nothing stops them from doing this, and several first-years have certainly stepped up - but they didn't /have/ to. There were people already picking up the slack. So it's not a huge surprise you see less involvement. With the time crunches we have here, if something isn't absolutely vital, it usually gets passed up in favor of the other fires we have to fight.

Should we have something to put first-years in that position? All-frosh committees? How are the class reps doing?

There are, as mentioned before, first-years that have taken on leadership positions. How do we support and encourage those frosh? They're probably the ones that would have stepped up regardless of necessity or where they went, the ones that already had those kinds of qualities exhibited - but just because "they'd do it anyway" doesn't mean we shouldn't support them. At the same time, we need to bring out the people in the background. How do we get those who are not stepping forth now to step forth more?

Fight 'superhero' syndrome. Sometimes there is a mentality, when looking at people you admire, to think that it's wonderful that they have done all this stuff, and you wish you could do that - but that you can't and never will be able to. Even when they tell you that you can do it, you say "Oh, but you're special." This keeps people from starting clubs, from tutoring/TAing, from stepping up and asking folks questions, from talking to professors about classes. They see other students with great professorial relationships, with huge activism, and wish they could break into that sort of energy, that sort of involvement. How do you get it across to people that all you really have to do is just start doing what you want to - you don't have to "break into" any sort of inner circle?

This changing-things business is a risk. We all said we were risk-takers when we were trying to get admitted here. But I don't think we are, so much. I think we sleepwalk through much of our lives (only with a lot more caffeine in the bloodstream than most) and do what we think we are expected to. I know that I didn't do a lot of things I thought I should do because I was afraid that I would fail classes, or tick folks off, or something else terrible - and there is a definite tradeoff, doing what you want to do and maybe succeeding by 'normal' standards. I'm not saying we ought to say "to heck with normal standards!" and go forth and be passionate and completely ignore the fact that we have math homework due the next morning... but sometimes you have to recognize you're as bound to your duties and limitations as you want yourself to be.

Last year, Alex Dillon sent out an email to the student body asking us to wake up, think about a few things, discuss some stuff - voiced a lot of concerns, had a huge informal conversation in the auditorium, and there was a lot of energy from that... but not much of it remains now. Perhaps we need another such event. (If you have no idea what I am talking about, ask any '06 or '07er).

It shouldn't be a one-way mentoring relationship. I have learned a lot of things from the frosh class this year. They have a lot to share.

It is comfortable to have your own social bubble, regardless of whether you're a first, second, or third year. Having a tight group of friends is good. Very, very good. At the same time, if we're to avoid hermetically sealing ourselves off, we need to foray outside those groups occasionally. The trouble is when you foray outside, everyone else is usually in their respective groups of friends - so when you try to go out and explore and get to know more people better, it's more difficult than perhaps it ought to be. There's this activation energy that becomes more difficult to break through as the year goes on.

What helped with this last year? One thing is clubs. I got to know many upperclassmen through clubs. Clubs are nowhere as active this year. Social culture is more informal - that is, it doesn't go through "official" club channels, clubs themselves last year were pretty dang informal anyway - it's organized through carpediem, it's groups of friends going out to places and playing games together. Informality is great. Carpediem is great. But informally organized events tend to be gotten together by groups of people that already know each other. It's something to be aware of.

Another thing - and I do not have much experience or knowledge of this - is parties (the ones with alcohol, I mean). They're places where different social groups come and get to know each other, really relaxed and just hanging out. But within a party you can still see the groups of friends clumping. Also, this only works for the people that want to go to parties. It seems there are many more parties this year. Maybe that's our way of trying to break down that gap of knowing people. I've got nothing against parties - I think they're a lot of fun, I think it's great folks are hanging out and having a good time - but here is one thought: if this is all we can find to get us together - well, that seems a little bit sad. Maybe we need more different kinds of parties. Tea parties. Chocolate parties. Art parties. Music parties. Get more interest groups.

It becomes easier and easier to come into Olin with preconceptions of what it will be like, and what college life will be like, because there is more of it built each year. Perhaps we need to put forth some cultural expectations in an introduction to frosh before they come in. Candidates' Weekend introduces them to our culture, Orientation continues the job. Sean McBride set up a Hitchhiker's Guide to Olin Culture (almost like an Olin culture wikipedia) over the summer, and it got great traffic and was fantastic at introducing people to lots of inside terms and jokes and social norms, but it also died out. Maybe it's time for a revival over this summer; it seems like a logical cyclical process to go through, rising at the start of each year.

No amount of programs or initiatives we set up will change the place if people themselves don't change the way they think and live. So we shouldn't be concerned, perhaps, with starting the Program That Will Change Our Lives! but instead with just... changing our lives. And changing the lives of those around us. And getting them to change those around them, et cetera.

You will never, ever, ever have enough time to do this. You will always, always, always have other things to do. Sometimes you have to put things aside. Sometimes you have to stop saying "later" and do things now. Sometimes you have to pay a certain price - like a sleep debt, or an annoyed friend, or a B instead of an A because you didn't study the night before - to do things you think you should do. It's up to you to decide whether the cost is worth it.

What were the big things that changed you last year? Here are mine: Mechanical Nature cookies with Zhenya and the other girls in the class first semester. Alex Dillon's email to the entire student body at the end of last year. Watching some of the frosh come in and take initiative this year - it's tremendously inspiring. Having some of the upperclassmen I really admired tell me at the end of last year, out of the blue, that they thought I was doing fantastic things, that I'd learned a lot, and that I was doing good stuff. Being asked for advice for the first time by a '08-er. Jimmy Rising's Human System Dynamics "pseudoclass."

Are we just too big? Are these problems that will never be completely solved, issues that will never totally go away? Is the generation gap unavoidable?

Just because a problem can never be fixed, does that mean we should stop trying?

Friday, April 28, 2006

Project idea: Electric-acoustic travel guitar

I've been kicking this idea around for a little bit. Here's the problem: I like to travel light, I like to make music, and I play the piano. Solution: Learn guitar. However an ordinary guitar is on the large side, on the loud side, and not headphone-able for my suitemates' sanity. Travel guitars are expensive.

But what if I got this Martin backpacker steel string guitar? And then followed this Instructables tutorial to slap a disassembled piezo buzzer into the body as a cheap (yet supposedly still decent) pickup, leading to something like this Martin backpacker electric-acoustic, except that slapping in my own pickup wouldn't cost an extra $100. Use the money I saved to pick up a cheap amp.

Then if I have extra time and money, perhaps add in this kit which is a preamp with headphone output for $37. Or machine little attachable "wings" to fill out the Martin into a guitar that can actually sit on my lap, rather like this Aria Sinsonido travel guitar.

Essentially, for $50 worth of electronics and random material, transform a $160 Martin into a $340 Aria. The only thing I need to decide is whether I'll actually play it if I build it. No sense in building a guitar I'll play for a month and then abandon. I'm terrible at figuring out what I'm going to follow through on, which is making me more cautious now of what I say I'm going to do.

Sunday, April 23, 2006

Buying in without selling out

Had a long conversation with Gill last week, since registration for next semester is coming up. I told him I was afraid I wasn't becoming a "Real ECE" - I can push things around on paper, and sort of plug stuff into breadboards, and solder and code, but it doesn't all fit together; I still feel uncomfortable playing in ECE-space, and I graduate next year. I can stumble about in piano-space, drawing-space, to a slight extent in coding-space, and pretty decently in abstract-math-space, but in ECE space, I don't know anything. I'm still terrified that someone's going to find out that I'm a fake ECE. That last sentence was an oversimplification; I know the "fake it till you make it" thing, and I know I'm mildly competent and I know how to learn the stuff, but there's still a sense of unease that I'll be a person with a degree that I can't live up to.

Gill said there was a tipping point of sorts where that "Huh, I feel ok with this!" thing happens and you become able to play, and that it seems worst right before you hit that point, so I was probably right on track to get the revelation either this summer or early next year. He also said the important thing wasn't necessarily to learn ECE stuff, but to learn how to learn ECE stuff, because "ECE stuff" changes so rapidly and there's too darn much of it for anyone to cram into their minds.

The other half of the conversation was tougher. He asked what I wanted to do after Olin. I told him I wanted to become a professor, one who made changes in engineering education - maybe even a university administrator, if I could do that and not drown in bureaucracy or lose touch with teaching. (And before I become a professor, I want to work in industry, probably at a design firm, and do volunteer work.) I know that to become a prof at a good school where I could make a worldwide difference, I need to go to a good grad school. For which I need good grades. Which I... don't have, exactly (they're not abysmal, but they're not gorgeous by any stretch). And that I would need to stop doing so much tutoring and extracurriculars and little things that I think do good for other people but that "don't count" so much and buckle down on my schoolwork and doing research.

It's a quandary. If I do what I want to do to help out schools now, I won't be able to get very far. My possibilities of becoming a good prof will be limited by not going to grad school and getting a phd. If I'm selfish now and work my way up, I'll be able to help so many more people in the future - but that means having less of an effect on them now. The question, as Gill put it, is whether to buy into the system you want to change. Ultimately, it's a decision I have to make and live with.

I think my answer is yes. That I need to be selfish and buckle down now to be able to change what I want to change when I grow up. But I don't want to sell out. I'm happy doing what I'm doing now; I was happy being "Very Good Studious Asian Girl" before, and they were both effective - just different kinds of effectiveness, different kinds of happy. I can't go back to the way I was before, isolated and selfishly focusing on grades (or at least focusing on my own more than I do now), without feeling like I've lost something. (Having a life, for instance. And being a little human.)

How do you buy into the "academic respectability" system without losing your soul?

Friday, April 14, 2006

Home for a reunion

I feel asleep on the pool cover last night and was roused from my sleep by a 9-year-old asking me how to use earrings to kill somebody and a 2-year old bellowing "YOU'RE FUNNY!" and promptly climbing on top of my stomach to play.

Welcome to the Lim-Chua family reunion! Where my mother and her 7 sisters, her mother, uncle, sister-in-law, their son, his wife, and everybody's kids crowd into our house and necessitate at least a half-hour wait to use any bathroom - and we have four bathrooms. We're from all over; Canada, Seattle, Boston, Chicago, Manila, Shanghai. Everyone likes food.

I'll be back at Olin on Monday.

Monday, April 10, 2006

Why is engineering uncool?

A friend who works at 3M asked me a question the other day.

“One thing is clear - you love math, science and technology and it’s fun. So, why doesn’t everyone have the same enthusiasm for it as you do? Or, at least, why aren’t there more?”

There’s no reason for them to love it. Why should they? My engineering classmates and I know our answer to this already. It’s how we get ahead. It’s about doing things nobody’s done before because otherwise we’ll be treading the same beaten path and progress will never happen. We’re crazy enough and stubborn enough to Do It Anyway.

We’re anomalies. For your average kid in K-12, innovation gets the snot beaten out of you, both socially and academically. I remember getting bad marks on a physics test because I used one of Einstein’s thought experiments (with moving reference frames) to solve the shoot-the-monkey problem, because I thought it was fun. I remember getting some of the worst grades on math time tests in grade school because I never drilled my times tables at home - I liked spending my time piddling around with such “useless” things as reading Darwin or learning about injection molding. The intellectual high I got out of doing that outweighed the “punishments” I got for it; low marks and the other kids thinking I was a freak.

Most kids don’t get rewarded for being innovative. They get rewarded for filling in the bubbles with a #2 pencil. They get rewarded for doing things the grownups feel safe about calling “unique” and “innovative” because it fits this nice grown-up mold of what is “safely innovative” - just a wee bit off the beaten path (and onto another path that we grown-ups have mapped out for you and call “innovative” - can you find it, can you read our minds?) When kids pull stuff that’s truly crazy, sometimes grownups get freaked out. And that’s hardly encouraging if we want the next generation to grow up unafraid of playing.

What scares me is not that the adults of the world are looking at the state of things and going “AH! We are not innovative enough!” We, the young engineers and hackers of the future, have exactly the same reaction.

What scares me is that the adult response seems to be this: “Ok, kids - we’re going to put these scantron sheet problems on innovation for you; fill them out FASTER! FASTER! MORE! If you can fill in the “innovation” bubbles correctly, we MUST be doing well! NUMBER TWO PENCILS, EVERYBODY!”

How can we change this?

Saturday, April 08, 2006

Things I learned today

  1. Crumbly fudge cannot be sintered together.
  2. Cream is delicious! (My father was lactose intolerant, so most of the milk in my house was soy, powdered, or at best skim when I was a kid.)
  3. Old buildings in Boston are gorgeous on the inside. The Somervillains and I went into the Gamble Mansion on Commonwealth Ave. in the wee hours of Saturday to storyboard for our 48 hour film competition entry, and mmm, ballrooms.
  4. (a cup of cream later) Cream is addictive!

In other news, I made fudge for the first time today thanks to Beth Sterling's efforts to make me cooking-literate. It's tasty and has to be chiseled out of the pan, hence the resulting crumbles and the sintering comment above.

Saturday, April 01, 2006

Classroom bug reports: asking for help productively

Want to double your tutoring productivity, or the productivity of your teachers?

As a TA, I realized last year that I spent most of my tutoring time helping students figure out exactly what their problems are. As an engineer, I know that once you clearly define a problem, you’re halfway to its solution. And as a programmer, I’d learned about a particularly efficient way of defining a problem: writing a bug report. In geek parlance, bug reports are standard “I found a problem!” forms that testers and users fill out to tell a development team what they need to work on. It details precisely what actions lead to what results, allowing the coder to get down to the business of fixing things.

Bugs aren’t so clear-cut in academic situations, but I wondered if formalizing the action of pinning down your problem before asking for help would make any difference in classes. One of the big things students need to learn in school is how to ask for help well, but nobody ever explicitly teaches you that. Once I began using these bug reports to formalize my own questions, I found that I was able to ask for help much more effectively; last semester I started asking my students to use them to explain their problems concisely and well to me - and to themselves. It’s too soon to see any effects, but I’m hoping to roll it out in my tutorials at the start of next semester and see what happens.

Here’s the explanation and request I send out when people ask me for help. Some of you might already do this in one form or another. Feel free to hop in, comment, or tell me this is obvious and everyone else has been doing it for years. Do you think bug reports are useful outside the realm of software development?

Bug Report Explanation
Dear [Name],
Thanks for emailing me and saying you’ll stop by. Before coming in, it would be awesome if you could write up a bug report. I’ve found that they help me focus my thinking and solve problems in my own work much faster. So I thought I’d try it with other folks too. Explaining the problem quickly with bug reports also has the side effect of making it a lot easier for my teachers to help me, so I do have some ulterior motives here.

Here’s the format I use; answers aren’t long, just 1-3 sentences or coherent fragments thereof. (I make one for each issuse I’ve hit).

[Coursename] Bug # [Positive Integer]

About:
(What homework problem, lab, reading, proof, or page am I talking about? As specific as possible - topic, book, page number, problem number, or even which sentence of a problem the issue is with.)

Problem:
(What, exactly, am I stuck on? What specific piece of information is it that I don’t have but need desperately?)

Tried so far:
(What have I tried so far to fix the problem myself? What happened and why did/didn’t it work?)

Request:
(Given all this, what would I like the prof/TA/whoever to do for me?)

It’s really short and easy to hack out the couple sentences once you get the hang of it, and half the time writing a bug report actually fixes the problem for me, which is totally sweet.

Give it a spin and let me know how it works for you - either come in with these or shoot them off to me beforehand.

Thanks,

-Mel

Friday, March 31, 2006

On the future of libraries

Note: This is also an updated version of a post from my personal blog. I’m migrating some relevant old writings over, and then the new content rush will begin.

On a recommendation from Dee Magoni, I read an article written by the DaVinci institute on the future of libraries. Since the point of a library is to make as much information easily available to as many people as possible (and not to act as a book museum), it’s actually an article on the future of public information access. They discuss 10 trends, which I’ll elaborate on here.

Trend #1 - Communication systems are continually changing the way people access information.

After stating the obvious, the article goes on. “What is the ultimate form of communication, and will we ever get there?” And then it says that books and writing are but technologies (albeit long-lived ones), and every technology has a limited lifespan. This, along with the second trend, which is…

Trend #2 - All technology ends. All technologies commonly used today will be replaced by something new.

This implies that books and writing are on their way out. Back into the chasm of illiteracy, onwards! We live in the age of the sensory overload, the article seems to say, but soon it won’t be overload any more; we’ll absorb this information as naturally as we breathe.

Don’t we do this already? We react to the temperature of the room we’re in, the smile of a friend, the motion of the people around us as we thread through a crowd. If we only reacted to the information that came to us in the form of words, we might as well be Perl scripts.

Most people consider only word-based information to be “real.” According to McLuhan’s classic work Understanding Media, this stems from the recent development of a highly literate society combined with high data transfer rates. Words are digital (chunked) encryptions of the (analog) range of meaning we wish to communicate. They’re so portable and effective that we find it difficult to express thought without them. It’s almost like a PIC attempting to emulate an analog signal through pulse-width modulation. Societies without high literacy rates or fast communications lines tend to be more aware of nonverbal information present in the world.

Since words work so well, much of the information people consider important is in word form. Currently, the most efficient and searchable way to store words is in text. (Compare a speech transcript with its audio file; which will you more quickly extract information from, and which has a smaller file size?) ) It’s not just finding an alternative format for text that’s our concern, it’s finding an alternative format for words. That’s going to take a while.

Trend #3 - We haven’t yet reached the ultimate small particle for storage. But soon.

The problem isn’t how we store information so much as how we look at it. There’s no sense in having the capability to store millions of terabytes of data if we aren’t able to work with it.

Trend #4 - Search Technology will become increasingly more complicated

There’s only so much complexity that people will take before someone invents a new way. Within a decade, the amount of information we need to handle will balloon past the capability of our current search paradigm to handle and search technology will become something we haven’t even conceptualized yet.

The article argues that librarians will become increasingly more necessary as searches become more complex. But what will the librarians of the future be like?

Trend #5 - Time compression is changing the lifestyle of library patrons

People today sleep, on average, two hours less per night than 80 years ago, going from 8.9 hours per night to 6.9 hours. 34% of lunches today are eaten on the run. 66% of young people surf the web & watch TV at the same time. Basically, we have more needs faster.

I’m surprised the article doesn’t treat this topic in more depth. Instead, it goes on to talk about the impending doom of keyboards. Granted, interfaces will change like mad in the next few decades. But let’s step back and talk about life changes first. Our lives are broadening and speeding up. In the old mentality, your worth was determined by the amount of information you had access to (usually through training and memorization). The information you could get to was limited enough that you could reasonably master it.

In the new workforce, almost everyone has access to a huge amount of data spanning all sorts of topics. It flattens the old hierarchy based on information access; now your value is measured by what you can do with the data. Instead of rewarding people for knowing things, we reward them for creating. (This makes me unbelievably happy. It’s also the reason I think our school system needs an overhaul; we still teach kids how to function in the old world. But that’s another writing for another day.)

Why are we so much more rushed and busy than we used to be? We’re dealing with incoming data the same way we used to, but now there’s much more of it. To use a bad analogy, it’s like being a librarian writing due dates on check-out cards. This works great for low-volume flows of patrons with books. After a certain point, your writing speed will get increasingly frantic until it maxes out and you can’t physically keep up with the book flow any more. So you buy a date stamp. (And that works great for a while longer, but then it gets to be too much… and you buy a barcode scanner.)

Search technology right now is in date stamp phase, but some people are still stuck back in handwriting, and they’re scrawling so desperately they’re going to get carpal tunnel soon. Something in the way society handles data is going to give, and it’s going to give soon, and it’s going to give big-time. Whatever it is, I believe it’ll simultaneously calm our lives and push them towards breakneck-speed insanity. There’ll be a widespread awakening of the world due to knowledge management sometime soon; it’ll be on the order of magnitude of the awakening that occured when the internet first started to spread like wildfire about a decade ago.

Trend #6 - Over time we will be transitioning to a verbal society

According to the article, not long from now we’ll see “the end of the keyboard era. Dr William Crossman, Founder/Director of the CompSpeak 2050 Institute for the Study of Talking Computers and Oral Cultures… predicts that by 2050 literacy will be dead.” You’ve already heard my argument for why it won’t be. That having been said, there will be much more information used in non-literate form.

It’s not just a more verbal society that we will see, but a more tactile and physical one.

Computer-human interactions are pretty sad right now. Think about it; all your feedback from this wonderful device is limited to a tiny flat screen and some tinny beeping speakers. All its feedback from you is in the form of keypunches and a little arrow moving across its surface. Now think of having a conversation with another person. You can nod, blink, smile, imitate an accent, roll your eyes, wave your hands in the air. There’s an amazing amount of information you’re transmitting that the computer never sees. Conversely, there’s an amazing amount of information you’re able to recieve that the computer can’t yet give you. I see this changing as computing power becomes cheaper, smaller, and increasingly embedded in everything.

Trend #7 - The demand for global information is growing exponentially
Trend #8 - The Stage is being set for a new era of Global Systems
Trend #9 – We are transitioning from a product-based economy to an experience based economy

The world is shrinking, there’s no doubt about that. Our horizons are broadening. We’re no longer thinking as linearly as we once did, and we see things as a facilitator of experiences and not an end in and of themselves (”I don’t want a half-inch drill bit; I want a half-inch hole.”) I agree on all three counts.

The article says that books “will transition from a product to an experience.” We already evaluate books on the basis of the experience they provide, whether we’re aware of it or not. Why do people read Nicholas Sparks novels? They like the emotional wistfulness it provides. Why do people read Feynman’s lectures? They appreciate the humor and the elegant physics. It’s not the dead blocks of vegetable matter we’re enamored with, it’s the thoughts stored within them.

However, I believe that the capabilities of books (or written material) in terms of providing an experience will broaden as we become more and more aware of them. The invention of hypertext opened up new possibilities for the written word, freeing it from the left-to-right, down-the-line gridlock; any word in a story can now lead to any other word. Media (sound, music, pictures, etc.) can be embedded within text, adding to its meaning.

Look at the writing style of today, with its snappy pose and emotionally-resonating stories, and compare it to the writing style of just a half-century ago. Instead of merely putting down content, our textbooks are trying to find ways to make that content accessible and engaging. In an age where information is cheap, what counts is the way you can present that information to others. Creating reading experiences sells, and authors are becoming more cognizant of this every day.

Trend #10 - Libraries will transition from a center of information to a center of culture

This is where I believe Olin’s library is caught right now. It wants to be a center of culture that, by definition, provides help finding information. However, cultural habit is strong enough to dictate that it’s still focused on being THE center of information. The library has tried to move towards being an information helper rather than an information provider by outsourcing a lot of the actual content providing that other libraries do. Interlibrary loans and online databases in lieu of buying thousands of volumes for the library shelves are the most striking example; we have a tiny library, but it makes a huge realm of data accessible to us.

The way in which the library organizes its information strongly reflects the school culture. Look at the Olin library website and compare it to the google homepage. Something look familiar? To Olin’s internet-savvy, google-using students, something sure does.
Note that the library webpage (and the library itself) doesn’t necessarily contain the information you want, but tells you where to find it instead. Most of the content on the webpage is actually provided by external companies; there are links to databases, handbooks, online versions of texts, and the holdings of the other libraries in the consortium. I would estimate that I use interlibrary loan for approximately a fourth of the books I get through Olin’s library. In this case, the library is acting as a gateway to more information and not necessarily a keeper of it. In this age, there is enough information to manage that the time of an institution is better spent knowing who has what and how to get it, as opposed to trying to keep it all by itself.

The Olin library explicitly tries to be a center of culture as well. Walk in, and you’ll see toys on the shelves. There’s a Go board, K’nex, legos, chess, little wind-up toys, samples of strange materials, and other fun tinkering things that engineering students would find fun. There are sketchpads and colored pencils at every table. Feedback post-its are stuck to the support posts, encouraging dialogue. We’re allowed to bring food into the library, which turns it into a comfortable hang-out spot. There are team rooms in the back, meaning that groups will come work here for the space and the laid-back atmosphere even if they don’t specifically need any of the informational content in the library.

In fact, none of the things I’ve just mentioned are dependent on the library as a source of content. Olin’s library is doing for information centers what Starbucks did for coffee; instead of just serving up the stuff, they created an experience around it that made you want to come back for more. You don’t just go to Starbucks for a good expresso; you also go for the laid-back feeling, the “I’m taking a break” mood, the place to hang out (and the free wireless). You don’t just go to the library for books; you go there for the playful intellectual buzz, the company of like-minded others… all right, and the free wireless.

In conclusion

The evolving library and dynamic librarian as guides that help you find a good data experience: Probably.

The evolving library as the end-all-be-all revolutionary new technological way to handle data without words: Eh. The biggest difference in libraries in the next century won’t be the snazzy teched-up materials we find (or don’t find) on their shelves; it’ll be in our minds and the way we conceptualize the relationships between libraries, information, and ourselves. The technology and the paradigm shift will support each other.

Information Design: engineering datastreams

Note: This is an updated version of a post I wrote on my personal blog back in November of 2005.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about knowledge management and its ultimate usefulness (or uselessness, depending). Data continues to burgeon, and we’re totally unprepared as a society to handle it. We need a thinking shift. I’m not sure I would call it knowledge management, if by knowledge management we mean “Look, lots of data - store it.” A better term might be information design (ID).

What is information design?
Wikipedia says that information design is “the design of visual displays of data.” I agree, but think there’s more to it than that. There’s a nebulous whole that includes the wikipedia definition, information architecture, usability engineering, engineering-style project design, lifehacks, Content Management Systems (CMS), and more.
This is a discipline that’s so new that not many people have heard of it. In fact, it’s hard to say exactly what ID is, but my best shot is to say that ID is design (product, software, analysis techniques, whatever) that’s geared towards:

(1) communication and
(2) organization/productivity.

Pioneers in the field might be people like Steve Jobs, David Allen, Edward Tufte, Garr Reynolds, or Don Norman. There are also companies like xplane, which generates information graphics, and firms like IDEO and Design Continuum that make heavy use of ID to manage their project workflow and sometimes deliver it as part of their consultation for a client, but the field still appears sparse and ill-defined (so here’s your chance to get in the door as a pioneer).

Information design problems
Perhaps the best way to clarify what I mean is through examples. Here are a few problems I’d imagine falling within the realm of ID.

  1. How do we make use of massive streams of data while still getting things done? We can’t shut the doors and say”we can’t deal with this much input, so we’ll ignore its existence.” We can’t go “All right, let ‘er in!” and then drown in overload. There is too much to do; there is too little time and too few people. Never before in history has the ratio of information to people been so high, so accessible, or so quick to grow.
  2. How do you design a life-management system? Forget motivational speakers and their exhortations to “take charge of your life” and “get organized.” We know all that stuff. We roll our eyes at it. Our work habits are still a mess. It’s like the couch potato that knows he should hop off his bum, stop eating TV dinners, and exercise. And yet he doesn’t. How can he create a plan so he will? (David Allen’s elegant solution is presented in his book, Getting Things Done, which I highly recommend.)
  3. How do you present your new project at a conference? (Steve Jobs is reportedly insanely good at this, according to Guy Kawasaki via Garr Reynolds.) How do you manage your slides, your speech, your lighting, your talk - how do you get your audience engaged and engrossed in your concept? Numbing their brains with powerpoint bullets is not the right solution, but what is?
  4. How do you simplify complex things into simple schema? You want to explain to your students the design process they’re about to go through. You want it on a poster you can tack to the studio wall, but there’s so much data to abstract. (Edward Tufte is reportedly insanely good at this - thanks to Matt Colyer for the recommendation.) You don’t want a gigantic text dump, but at the same time, a big unlabeled triangle doesn’t really tell you much… how do you make content concise yet intuitive, simple yet full of meaning?
  5. How do you store working data amongst a group of people? You’re working with a software team. Bug reports and revisions are flying through the air. How do you create a CMS to hold it all together? How do you share information, delegate tasks, ask questions, talk to one another, keep the wheels turning smoothly - what makes a good team good, and what can bad teams do to get better (or is all hope lost for certain group dynamics?) Where do you store what you know? This isn’t just a matter of what variable name in what database on what server; this is also things like “Betty’s our resident skateboarding expert, but Dan is really good at giving speeches” that nobody ever writes down but everyone just internalizes. How do you formally describe this so you can make the process better?

Further Resources
I have not articulated this particularly well because the concept isn’t yet clear in my own mind. What do you think? Is there a better word for the conglomeration than “information design” (which already means something)? Is this a valid discipline, or a combination of many? Is this something that would be useful for people to study? Why? How can we make it so?

In addition to the links in the post above, the following websites give a strange, hop-and-skip spot overview of what I’m thinking about. None of them quite hits it, but all of them, with the addition of sociology, psychology, human factors, cognitive science, graphic design, marketing, theatre, and communications (and lions, tigers, and bears oh my!) blossom fairly close to the space I’m trying to define. This is not an exhaustive list; further recommendations are very much welcome.

Thursday, March 30, 2006

How to cultivate an uberstudent population

First of all, I'm working on a new website, www.melchua.com. Before you get all "Oh god, she's trying to look professional and stuff!" let me reassure you that I'm still completely just messing around with no coherent goal, structure, or overarching plan. I figured that I've never had a domain name, never played with wordpress, never tried to write about a coherent topic on a regular basis - hey, why not?

This blog will remain as a personal blog on Planet Olin; the other one will be a... non personal blog. (earth-shattering, yes.) If there's something on the second one that I think Oliners would get a kick out of seeing, I'll cross-post it here.

Like this one: how to cultivate an uberstudent population

It comes from the NCCI (National Consortium for Continuous Improvement in Higher Education) conference at MIT this Monday. Thanks to the awesomeness of the conference organizers and Sherra Kerns and Ann Schaffner, I was able to attend; it was an eye-opening experience that got my brain to spinning. At the end of Sherra Kerns’s presentation, “Creating a culture of continuous improvement with students as partners,” the following question was posed to me (the only student in the room):

How do you get students interested in changing a school?

In other words, how do you create Oliners? Are we just hyperactive overinvolved freaks that would try to change whatever worlds we were put in anyhow, or is there a way to make more people do what we do? In my case, I believe I was made an Oliner, not born one. I was such a scared little kid in high school that if I hadn't come to this kind of environment, I would probably be a dutiful Asian engineering student doing what they were told to do very, very well somewhere else.

In any case, I'd like to hear people's thoughts (please comment on the article in the comments of the actual article and not on this blog, by the way.)

How to cultivate an uberstudent population

MIT hosted a NCCI (National Consortium for Continuous Improvement in Higher Education) conference this Monday. Thanks to the awesomeness of the conference organizers and Sherra Kerns and Ann Schaffner, I was able to attend; it was an eye-opening experience that got my brain to spinning.

At the end of Sherra Kerns’s presentation, “Creating a culture of continuous improvement with students as partners,” the question was posed as to how to get students interested in changing a school. In other words, how do you create “uberstudents” that are involved not just in getting good grades in their classes, but in changing the actual workings of their institution for the better? Every school has them. They’re that magical 5% of overinvolved kids who want to work on and change evvvverything. We call them the crazy ones, the innovators, the active populace of the student body. The question is how you can get more of them.

Here’s my attempt an an answer.

what they are: uberstudent, n.

In any given university, an uberstudent is one who is very involved and active in running and changing their school. You’ll probably find them as active club leaders or movers and shakers in student governments, but not all club leaders and student government officials are uberstudents. There are also a few uberstudents in every school with no official positions; they simply go in and talk with administration - productively and maturely - about revising this, or petition - productively and maturely - about changing that, or they talk to professors about transforming classes or labs so other students can learn more effectively.

Uberstudents are catalysts for change. They don’t just care about getting good grades and a good job and making themselves happy; they care about the intitution as a large whole, and work towards improving that instead. Basically, if you ask “who are the kids who Make Things Happen on this campus?” you’ll probably come up with a list of your uberstudents. They’re the ones you wish you had a thousand more of.
Synonyms: Change-agent student, innovators, active students (Thanks to Patricia Brady for suggesting the clarification and definition given here.)

Prepare the soil: an innovative culture

Uberstudents create (and thrive in) innovative cultures. Innovation” is a term that’s thrown around a lot, almost to the point of meaninglessness. What does it actually mean?

Innovation: The art of learning how to leverage yourself and others for maximum positive change, often leading to unique and nontraditional results.

Innovation isn’t a set concept or action; it’s a philosophy and a skill that needs to be developed like any other. I’m an engineering student, so this is an engineering definition, but it works well for Olin, where creating innovation is regarded as the ultimate engineering optimization problem. What’s the smallest thing we can do to make the biggest difference?

An innovative culture can be characterized by three things:

  1. Nobody knows what they’re doing.
  2. Everyone knows nobody else knows what they’re doing.
  3. And that’s great!

In an innovative culture, passion is more important than experience. Everyone’s trusted to be intelligent enough to learn how to do what they’ve got to do, and everyone’s trusted to have the best interests of the community in mind. Because everyone’s learning, mistakes are accepted, even encouraged; failures aren’t failure but an opportunity to learn (or as Edison would say, nonfunctional prototypes that lead to a working one).

Since innovation is a learned skill, you can teach it the same way you teach any other thing - that is, convince students they should learn it, help them learn it, and then reward them for learning it. It’s the only type of environment in which you can rear seedling uberstudents and have them thrive and change your school - and then the world.

Sowing the seeds: sprouting uberstudents

Tell them who they are.
Make it clear from the start that ownership and innovation are expected and rewarded. As students, your job isn’t to learn what you’re told; your job is to learn how to learn, and to learn how to decide for yourself what to learn. Becoming an uberstudent isn’t just an option; it’s your job.

Don’t just use existing uberstudents; create new ones.
Naturally, when we want to do something a little wild, we look to the existing uberstudents first. They’re doing it all already - they can do more, right?

Instead of asking the existing uberstudents to lead the way and hoping the others will follow, ask the others to lead. The uberstudents will follow; they’re drawn to change like moths to a flame. Most students secretly want to be uberstudents. They’re just waiting to be asked. Instead of waiting for them to take the initiative, give them permission to do so.

There are 109 schoolwide committee positions at Olin. 31, or 28.4%, are filled by freshmen. Why? At Olin, when nominations for school committees come out, many students make it a point of nominating freshmen (who they’ve known for all of a few weeks) and then hunting down those freshmen and asking them, in person, to serve. “I don’t know how!” they often reply. “You don’t need to,” the upperclassmen say. “I didn’t.” This brings us to the next point, which is that…

Uberstudents beget uberstudents.
Make it a cultural norm. A sense of shared ownership is a very valuable one to cultivate. It tells students that they’re not alone; “I’m not the only one who cares about this.” Their peers and elders are doing it; they can and should as well. Because innovation is a learning process, they understand that less experienced people can, will, and should make mistakes; it’s not a matter of the good getting better and the not-so-good not getting to do anything at all.

There needs to be a shared sense of patience while uberstudents-in-training learn how to make themselves effective. The most crucial concepts are that of focus, purpose, leverage, and minimum effort. Figure out what you want, why you want it, and the smallest possible action necessary to carry it out. A sense of appropriate scope, timing, and audience evolves over time, as do presentation and communication skills and the ability to make others believe in your idea.

Since everyone in the community is figuring out how to do this at the same time, a constant background hum of tiny changes takes place. This is more genuine - and more effective - than large amounts of formal rah-rah “Innovate!” marketing initiatives. Uberstudents breed other uberstudents. Uberfaculty breed other uberfaculty. The more ubermembers you have in a community, the more likely the other community members are to go uber as well.

Care and feeding : Keeping your uberstudents going

Don’t wait for perfection. Grow now, tweak later.
The best time is now. There will never be a perfect sunny day when the heavens will align and your project will magically take shape. That day is today, but you need to make it so. Just do it.
If uberstudents have specific driving ideas they want to work on, fantastic; let them do that. If they have lots of energy but no specific direction, give them a starting point and encourage them to tinker with it a little bit and then open it up to the community. It’s easier to start with something and then ask for feedback on it than to give people a blank slate; this applies both to students working on a project and to the community they will take the project to for feedback later.

An even better strategy is to let people mix and match among several options. Even if students might not like one idea, they’ll probably like at least one component of one idea, and it’s easier to give constructive criticism on the parts that aren’t so great if you can also compliment something you’re especially impressed by. Hybrids and mutts are often nice and hardy.

Constraints make uberstudents wither.
“Ask forgiveness, not permission.” That’s what one of our professors told us as freshmen. Don’t worry about students blowing up the building; they have sufficient maturity not to do anything that will seriously hurt a person or the institution. The problem is usually the opposite, where students want to do something but aren’t sure if they’re allowed. Make it clear that they are, and that they can go ahead and do it - they don’t need to wait for approval. They can approve themselves.

Lower the activation energy it takes to get an initiative started. You get hit for every form you have to fill out and every person you need to get permission from. Half the projects drop out at each layer of bureaucrcy. All right, I just made up that number, but the concept remains; each successive hurdle is something to convince students not to put forth the effort, and the effects of this compound fast. If you want students to empower themselves, they need to have the freedom to do it.

Uberstudents thrive on information.
There’s a game that some teachers and bosses play. It’s called “Guess What I’m Thinking,” and it’s one of the most aggravating in the world. The game is played by having the boss tell the employees to go forth and be creative, come up with something really wild - and then when they come back, having gone forth and gone nuts, the boss says “We-eeell, that’s not what I was thinking.” And the game ends with everyone frustrated; the boss doesn’t get what s/he wanted, and the employees are angry because they were scolded for doing exactly what they’d been told to do, which is to be creative.

The end result is that those employees will probably never go wild again; they’re always wary that the boss has some hidden expectation in mind that they’ve got to go poking around in order to “do things right.”

If there are bounds you want the students to stay within, tell them. If there are qualifications and rules and procedures you’d like them to follow, let them know. Don’t pull any surprises; a student should be able to sit down and plot how to get from point A to point B, and how they will deal with tinstitution to do it, and there should be no administrative surprises along the way. Would you rather be told of requirements in advance and how to fulfill them, or be told how easy it is to get things started and how you’re completely free, only to discover later that this isn’t true?

Making the walls more transparent also has the added benefit that it forces you to deal with them and see whether they’re really vital. Do we actually need triplicate for a funding request? Why does this need to be signed by four professors? Be honest to the students, and they’ll be honest to you as to what you can do to improve the institution in return.

Remind them to sleep sometimes.
In other words, make sure your uberstudents don’t burn out. Remember, small changes are great; you don’t have to revolutionize the universe in an afternoon. Dream big, but don’t have any expectations coming in. Remember that sometimes sitting back and using a prefab default method lets you save your energy to change the things that are really important.

Fertilizing your uberstudents : making it worthwhile

Instant feedback is a great reward.
When students give you feedback, respond right away. The Black Hole of Feedback is death; it says to a person “Hey, you’ve put this time and thought into an issue, and… well, nothing’s going to come of it.” By not responding to feedback, you’re telling people that they’re wasting their time by giving it.

Note that being open to change does not mean obeying all requests for change. If you try to please everyone at once, you’ll end up pleasing nobody. However, you should acknowledge requests for change, even if you can’t fulfill them. Explain why things are the way they are; open up an intelligent discussion and channel that productivity into making things happen. Tell students that their effort was wonderful, their thoughts were intelligent and correct, they made you consider this issue, and their work was productive… and even if you can’t follow their suggestion, how else might we work together to resolve this issue to everyone’s satisfaction?

Failing is awesome.
“Fail faster to succeed sooner.” –David Kelley, IDEO

Failure is a fact of life. Being innovative means trying new things, and trying new things means taking risks. Taking risks means that there will always be a chance of failure - where failure is defined as “things not working out the way you wanted them to.”

You can use that definition to your advantage. If the success or failure of an initiative isn’t tied to a certain outcome, but rather to a learning experience, then it’s practically impossible to “fail.” You see this in scientific experiments as well; the disproving of a hypothesis isn’t a crushing disappointment, but rather an exciting opportunity. If Michelson and Morley’s experiment had gone as they expected, the concept of relativity in physics would never have come to fruition.

The faster that students - and the institutional culture in general - gets used to failure, the better. Dealing with failure teaches you:

  • How to recover from failure.
  • How to learn from everything that happens to you.
  • How not to be afraid.

The last one is particularly important. Most failures are really successes in disguise, and that’s a subtle yet crucial point to get across. So it didn’t turn out as you’d hoped. Wonderful! What do you know now that you didn’t before? How can you use this to change what you want to change?

The magic words

Here’s what I wish someone had said to me when I was a freshman and full of crazy ideas and not enough confidence. In fact, it was said to me, although I didn’t realize it at the time; the message took a million different forms, most quiet and nonverbal, but it eventually got through. It’s the magic script that turns inexperienced teenagers actively contributing young adults.

  1. Take ownership. You can do it. You don’t have to know how - we sure don’t (and that’s okay). We believe you’re intelligent enough to learn.
  2. We’ll support you. You’re not the only one that wants to do this.
  3. Here are things (procedures, forms) you need to know about. You have freedom in everything else. We’ll help you remove roadblocks; just ask. Nothing will stand in your way.
  4. Failing isn’t failure; it’s a wonderful chance for everyone to learn.
  5. What you’re doing will make a real difference. This is the most effective use of your time and energy if you want to see results.
  6. Go do something! Now!

Feedback?
This is a pretty rough post, and some of the ideas aren’t as fleshed out as I’d like; I’d love to hear feedback from students, professors, adminstrators (heck, anyone) on this. Is there something I’m missing? Something here that’s irrelevant or just plain wrong? Does this match anyone else’s experiences?

Monday, March 27, 2006

The world is too much with us

Ever get the notion that you've shut yourself down somehow because if you felt, you'd feel entirely too much?

Enter Wordsworth's "The World Is Too Much With Us."

The world is too much with us; late and soon,

Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune,
It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.

Monday, March 13, 2006

Musical phrases of happiness

There are a few musical passages of great beauty that make your heart dance a little whenever you hear them. Two of mine:

Vivaldi, "Winter " from The Four Seasons; the rising passage of six notes that is repeated thrice, one note higher each time, by a sweet violin floating over the harmony.

Mozart, "Andante" from Piano Concerto 21, the "Elvira Madigan" theme: after the piano melody builds up for the first time, there follows a descending violin (I think it's a violin) passage of 7 notes. It is immediately repeated and picked up by some other instrument, and recurs several times afterwards.

Music really doesn't translate well into text. But I have a small pause of happiness inside whenever I hear one of those passages. It's the same with a few math theorems, and a couple of lines of poetry, a couple of sets and the lighting and movement of the actors or dancers on stage for just that moment, and a small number of paintings, and some views out a familiar window - when you encounter those tiny bits of them, there's a small quiet ping! and you sigh a little inside, and you continue on with a lighter mind.

Sunday, March 12, 2006

Design team dynamics

Tim Smith, Eric Munsing, Liana Austin, Chris Carrick, and myself are doing an indepedent study on design team dynamics this semester. We met last night, and what we talked about turned out to be so useful that we all want to share it with more people (the most common refrain was "Man, I wish we'd talked about this before the start of (insert-our-last-project-here)!" followed by "This should be required reading for (choose one of: UOCD, Design Nature, POE, incoming freshmen, Expo)."

Topics covered were presentations, email, dialogues, and specification sheets, though the talks we had ranged over far more topics than the mechanics of those four modes of communication. Notes on the evening and our readings are at http://designteamdynamics.blogspot.com
, or ask one of us what's going on. I'd particularly love to hear what people think of the questions Tim brought up on dialogue (cooperative talking where everyone becomes observers of their own perspective, as opposed to discussions where people try to "win" by making everyone agree with their perspective).

Tim's questions:
  1. Peter Senge (in his book "The Fifth Discipline") likens team dialogue to "being in the flow" - like a jazzy musician or a basketball player. Is this something you've experienced in a team?
  2. Do we interact as colleagues at Olin? Is there a perception of hierarchical meritocracy? Does that - and should it - color our discussions of teamwork?
  3. Are we exposed to dialogue at Olin? What can we do to try to integrate this kind of team consciousness into the Olin curriculum?
  4. How do you encourage people to suspend their assumptions? How do you practice suspending assumptions? Do you think you're comfortable with it?
I love my independent study group. They're making me think about things that I've never had time to consider before.

Thursday, March 09, 2006

AHScap and closing doors

It's strange. When you're young - and I see myself doing this when I look at the folks I teach and tutor - your value is in your potential; not what you do, or what you are, but what you could become. How much of the world is open to you? What's the best you could reach? When you're young, nothing's impossible; you just haven't tried a lot of things that are possible yet. You don't know.

When you're older, glorious amounts of future potential don't appear by default, because you've gone down some of those paths and found that they don't work for you. Some doors close. Deeper doors open. Your potential and worth stands more on what you've done, because that's an indication of what you could do in the future. I might be listening to my father too much, but I get the impression that many people look down upon dabblers past a certain age, because if you've got a track record of mini-hacks in lots of subjects, it bodes ill for you settling down to work on whatever they're interested in having you work in. But if you're young, that's ok. You just haven't seen the world yet, and you don't know what you can be interested in.

Incidentally, I'm often jealous of my classmates who seem like they've got that focus. They know where they want to go. Grad school in this! Research in that! You can see them narrowing down on something and getting ridiculously good at it, be it cell biology, robotics, webdesign, or python. All the doors down that path are open to them. They can skyrocket as far as they want. They've got clear skies for the rest of their lives if they want it.

I'm nineteen now, and I feel like I'm getting too close to the border of "respectable dabbling age." I want to hack at thousands of things for the rest of my life, but I feel like I've got to make that "respectable" somehow. This is why I'd like to work for a product design firm for at least a number of years; I have a vision of it as a happy intellectual playground where I can do a million things, one at a time, one after another. Need to find out if that's really the case, though. I don't want a dream that doesn't correspond to reality. I'm looking forward to IDEO's visit to Olin tonight. I also need to find what else is out there in the world. I don't know what I want to do when I grow up because I don't ever plan on growing up, so I need to find what there is out there for a Very Big Kid to do.

I promised Tim I'd purge some thoughts on the AHS capstone out on this blog. As I understand it, AHScap is about making or doing something AHSlike that's an indication of a fair amount of mastery in the AHS field(s) of your choice.

My AHS capstone is in a bit of a pickle, as it's cross-disciplinary, multi-semester, mushed-in with NINJAing and OSS, and in something I haven't taken any classes in. (I tend to be an idiot and not do things the easy way.) In a nutshell, if it all works out, I'm going to help Gill and Brian compile the ECS textbook and lab manual. I hope.

I claim this draws on art and graphic design (because someone's got to do diagrams and photograph labs and layout the book, right?) which I've got lots of informal experience in but only Seeing and Hearing on my actual transcript for, and also education, which I've got lots of TAing experience in but no classes whatsoever for, even if I've been reading a fair number of textbooks on educational theory since high school. I'm doing an OSS during the first semester of next year to make up for that and learn the things that will give me "formal background" in those two disciplines, the education one in particular; the actual AHScap will start in the spring. Gill and Brian (even if they're the people I'll be working directly under) can't be my advisors, because they are not AHS people. So I need a design/art advisor and an education advisor in addition to Gill and Brian, which brings me to a total of 4 mentors thus far.

It's an interesting situation. I know this is what you get for trying to build a plane while flying it, but I think it'll work out, and it's all part of the fun. I'm doing AHS cap prep right now in an attempt to get this cleared up before next year, so I'm learning about the process (which seems wonderfully self-defined) as I go along, but there are still a few things I'd like to find out.
  1. Absolute expectations. There's nothing more frustrating than a vague homework assignment that has an explicit rubric behind it that the teachers don't tell you. If something's open-ended, it should be clear that it's open-ended, and it should actually be open-ended. If something has restrictions, those should be listed as well. I'm still not clear on the AHS capstone restrictions, though I have some thoughts on what those should be.
    (Seniors, what are your perceptions on the current "rubric" for AHScap? What makes a "good" one? What "should" we do?)
  2. Current time breakdowns for students and faculty, especially faculty. There's buzz that faculty spend so much time on AHS capstone advising - what is that time spent on? I'd like to ask a few faculty to post their AHS capstone timesheets so we can see if there's something that can be done to make that more efficient.
  3. Seniors, if you were going to email yourself at the start of your AHScap semester, what would you say? What didn't they tell you or what didn't you know that would have made life much better?

Monday, March 06, 2006

Sleep and dad

I'm getting better! My sleep hours are inching down from "you're-sick-and-need-12-hours" back to "you're-normal-and-need-6-hours" and are well on their way back to "you're-normal-Mel-and-need-3.5-hours." Productivity, how I've missed you.

6 hours isn't as insanely little as it may seem. In Why We Nap, a compilation of academic papers on sleep edited by Claudio Stampi, it's shown that while the average human need for sleep is usually 7-10 hours, it's possible for almost any person to train themselves down to needing only 5, if those 5 hours come in a consistent schedule.

My father came for Candidates' Weekend. Every time I see my parents, they're a little bit older, and I'm able to talk to them more. (my little daddy is growing up!) As it was, we spent a wonderful 2.5 days together, ate some good crepes in Brookline, and tossed around the idea of a human-powered trash compactor for refuse collectors in developing countries. So my productivity didn't actually rise that much this weekend, but it's worth it; I can do homework anytime, but I can't hang out with my family that often now.

I don't know how parents can stand to have their kids grow up so fast.

Friday, March 03, 2006

How do you "get" lectures?

Appeal to the Olin metabrain.

I can't get lectures. I have never been able to focus my attention on an academic lecture from beginning to end. It doesn't matter how good the lecturer is - I've drifted off in the midst of Allen, Dr. M, Mark Chang - heck, even Edward Tufte - and the speed of delivery and ability to rewind doesn't matter either (I downloaded the Gilbert Strang linear algebra lectures and the average amount of time I managed to pay attention was... 5 minutes.) It doesn't matter what the topic is. I've isolated all the variables I could think of, and the only conclusion I can reach is that "Mel Can't Do Lectures."

This likely stems from a few causes. First of all, it's habit; I've never listened to lectures, so I never learned to. Second, reading is a much higher-density, higher-accuracy, and time-efficient way for me to obtain information. I read fast, and when I see a word, I know that it's the word I think I'm seeing. I lipread and decipher sentences by context, which means I sometimes don't know what you're saying until you've finished saying it. There's high latency and a high error rate, because if I miss one bit of context, I'm just lost. Naturally, you go for the most efficient way to obtain information. If I can struggle through a 1-hour lecture and think I've maybe got some of it, or sleep half an hour and spend a relaxed 30 minutes reading a textbook and know I've got all of it, I'm going to pick the latter.

Consequently, all the things I know are from books. I learned how to talk to my parents by reading child psychology books in elementary school, I learned how to play baseball from reading sports training books after gym class, I learned how to use the table saw by reading a handyman's primer on power tools. None of this "it's just something you pick up as you live" business; I don't catch those conversations. This is great, because I can learn things that people don't tell me. This is bad because books ought to be an educational supplement, not an education. The no-lectures habit rapidly leads to "if I'm getting things from books and not lecture, why go to lecture?" which leads to my abysmal attendance rates in lecture-based classes.

If I am in a lecture-based class, chances are you'll see me working on my computer, teaching somebody else something, reading the textbook or doing homework (in which case why am I in the classroom in the first place, except to be polite)? This isn't good for my learning, it's not respectful to my classmates or my professors, and it's just... bad. I've tried repeatedly to force myself to pay attention, and it's painful. Imagine being taught calculus in Italian (assuming you don't know Italian). Sure, the mathematical symbols on the board are the same, but you miss all the commentary. You can catch an occasional word or sentence because Italian is similar to English, but now all you've got is incoherent sentences punctuated by the occasional shakily understood phrase that's now completely out of context. Now do this for all your classes. Now do that for 14 years. Now see how much you listen to lectures any more.

I'm approaching the point where I know I won't be able to compensate via textbook any more. As the things I learn become more advanced, I'm finding a dearth of good texts; sometimes there aren't any texts at all. I miss out on the funny stories, the quick tips, the and whole point of having a live teacher. Give me a stack of books, a whiteboard, and someone to email questions to, and I'll get through the material faster and with more depth than I would sitting glassy-eyed through lectures. But I think I'd get more depth if I could listen to good lectures, too. I miss a lot. I don't want to miss any more.

Things I've tried/considered, none of which work all that well:
  • Looking over someone else's shoulder at their lecture notes during class.
  • Borrowing someone else's lecture notes after class.
  • Trying to "read along" with the lecture (follow appropriate paragraphs in my book as they're talking).
  • Having a sign language interpreter (elementary through middle schools).

Dear Olin,

Please help. What do you get out of lectures that you can't get from books? How do you get that from them? What makes them valuable to you, and why can you understand them? Any suggestions for how I can understand them too?

Thank you,

- A frustrated Mel