So right now I’m sitting in my comfortable high-chair in front of my computer in a not-so-little comfortable Midwestern town. What have I been up so late for? I was working on some problems, and now I have sufficient inspiration to type up this post, which hopefully comes out right. It’s possibly the hardest post of my mini-“series”.
My personal experiences.
I’m very, very, very glad that my parents were willing to sponsor my education in the United States, instead of depending on some scholarship board that, more often than never, treat their scholars like statistics. (Another issue, one that I wouldn’t touch on for… obvious reasons.) As such, I’ve the freedom to pretty much do anything I wish, within reasonable limitations of course; taking the classes I so desire without too much worry about meeting GPA requirements (like an intensely difficult semester that I’m planning for next fall), and spending my summers as I see fit.
When I was a freshman, I never thought I would be in my current position. Which is, taking the advanced classes in the department, including classes normally meant for first year doctoral students (which is why a difficult semester next fall), and more importantly, spending a fruitful summer on research. I didn’t have the intention of math graduate school then, it was more like, yeah, math is fun, but could I really do it? And can I afford it?
I pretty much was a train wreck in junior college. I was far from a valued student, since by most assessments, I wasn’t a candidate for any overseas scholarships. Not being a candidate is one thing (as I said, I wouldn’t take a bonded scholarship that fell from the sky), but the perspective and treatment by others (teachers and peers) because of this is another.
Actually, I still don’t know where my loss of confidence in JC came from. Secondary school was still alright.
I wonder what’s up with junior college. I know that there are people who shine in the system, but I also know others who don’t, and some of these others become stellar students in college. American colleges, that is.
Maybe it’s the cut-throat environment. The obsession about grades and winning the much coveted scholarships. The obsession with entering an Ivy League university. The perfect mediocrity that is demanded of us – perfect in taking exams, mediocre otherwise. Seriously, what does the A Levels actually test? Critical thinking skills? I might have said this before, but I’ll say it again: I got my A for Physics entirely through chao mugging. Really. I didn’t understand a bit of it. And my year was the year that supposedly had the new and creative A Levels.
Maybe it’s the chao-mugging. Memorization is certainly not my thing. Which is why I didn’t follow the Singaporean dream of becoming a doctor. (And if anyone should mention the phrase “memorizing equations”, I invite you to peruse a copy of Mike Artin’s Algebra.)
Certainly, much of these negative attitudes came with me to America, but thankfully, I was immersed in an environment in which I could drop most of them quickly.
I don’t want to romanticize America. America is far from perfect. But it is an environment which I can thrive in. Where metrics count less and judgment counts more (and generally, most Americans actually worth associating with have better judgment than Singaporeans). Where the journey matters, not just the destination. Basically, in America, I am not reduced to a mere number, or just another statistic.
The corollary of that is that I am treated as a human being. A human being that is valued.
Generally, professors treat us like mature, thinking, independent adults (at least for my classes, I know this might not be true in some other depts that I’ve taken great pains to avoid). But then, this is expected of them. College students are not children anymore. (Though this might not necessarily apply to some people.)
And there’s a compelling story I wish to tell.
Anecdotal evidence doth not a proof make, but sometimes they tell very real stories.
My dept has a summer research program, which pays a pretty reasonable stipend to sit back and relax in the comforts of this town. Well, actually, to work on some interesting math. The application form clearly states that the program is meant for US citizens and permanent residents only, since the money comes from a government agency. I filled out the application form anyway.
Despite a severe funding crisis, the dept actually found money to give me the stipend. And I really mean funding crisis. The dept had to expend extra effort to look for money for the stipends for the Americans, and they were under no obligation to give me anything. But still they did.
It is this kind of thing that really makes me wonder.
And I’m grateful to the dept for this opportunity. It’s this kind of thing that makes me go, when I become an alumni, I will donate to the dept. I want to give back because the dept has showed their faith in me, has acknowledged my (potential) contributions to the dept. I want to give back because I want to, not because I'm obligated to.
In addition, undergraduates are capable of conducting research, subject to the fact that you prove yourself, of course. I know of many undergraduates, in and outside of my dept, who are engaged in fruitful research by professors who know how to harness and value our (albeit limited) skills. Undergraduates aren’t just class taking, grade producing machines.
Furthermore, graduate school in the sciences (I’m certain of this for math and physics) is fully funded by the department, with a combination of fellowships, teaching and research assistantships. There are no legal obligations attached.
Why this is the case I’m not entirely sure. For one I know that in American culture, it is not the norm to depend on one’s parents after college (specifically, after the bachelor’s) financially or otherwise. (NYT article not too long ago pretty much said this: Some people are moving back with their parents after graduation! What’s our society coming to?!?!) Independence is highly valued.
So since the parents aren’t expected to pay for graduate school, money must come from elsewhere. (But why humanities people get a worse deal, I don’t know.)
But by fully funding (science) graduate students, the message of value is sent. Here’s some money to live comfortably (I think I can on the stipend, though some protesters seem to think otherwise) and not worry about the next paycheck – go work on something that interests you. And when you’re done, go out and make a worthwhile contribution to our field. Elsewhere.
