living by Anika H. '26
having the time of my life
I’ve learned many things after coming to MIT. But among the differential equations and op amp PSETs, I’ve learned how to take care of myself, interact with others, how to be independent, and how to lean on others or ask for help when necessary. I’ve also learned a lot about my past, that my high school was competitive to the point of being toxic, and that it’s important to pick the people that you hang around with wisely ( I have now acquired standards for friends). But what hit me the hardest was I realized I hadn’t truly lived until I came to college.
doing stuff
So what’s the difference between living and surviving? PLAY. Living’s supposed to be fun. Not to say grade school wasn’t fun, but I felt like I was treading water. I had three square meals a day, friends to hang out with at lunchtime, and a goal to work towards (college), but I didn’t feel like I was going anywhere. I remember sometimes pausing in the middle of doing homework and thinking “what am I doing with my life?” It sounds ironic, because everything almost felt too purposeful. Most of the art I made was to make a portfolio, the volunteering was because I wanted to help people, and although they were fun, there was nearly nothing I was doing “just because.” The fondest moments I remember were the little things, like doodling on sticky notes when class got too confusing, pelting my friends with ketchup packets, and wandering the city on my bike with no direction in mind.
doing more stuff
Everyone I’ve met at MIT has an attitude of “just do it”.
“Why the hell are you psetting at 4am?”
“Dunno, I just had the energy.”
“What inspired you to make a pancake 3D printer?”
“It sounded funny.”
“Why did you eat this many tangerines with the rind?”
“For the hell of it. Oh man, my mouth’s getting numb,” they say, reaching for yet another tangerine.
And gradually, instead of adding purpose to play, I started adding fun to responsibility. I’ve turned in most of my math PSETs with sketches on the margins, and lectures started sounding really interesting with good professors and a puzzle-like approach.
Math had always been the bane of my existence, and not being able to understand the problems in recitation still kills me a little inside, but differential equations and voltage dividers have been strangely interesting. Sbleeb’s (Professor Steven B Leeb’s) “guzz-in” and “guzz-out” water faucet analogy for a transistor made equation derivations incredibly clear. The occasional “ya dig?” and “do you guys follow me?” to check for confusion as well as the “rippin’ bags of current” and “buffer bois” only make his classes all the more engaging.
a screenshot of my math scratch doodles
Small personal projects also lend themselves to a lot of learning. After building a man-eating couch for Make MIT, I got really good at using joysticks and servo motors. I learned how to use KiCAD (pcb design software) after milling a tiny led fidget toy. And making a whole bunch of fused glass art taught me how to use the kiln in the Edgerton 4-409 makerspace.
When progress feels slow, it’s always easy to think that the me in high school could have cruised through my workload, but it’s also easy to forget that I’m now doing things that high school me couldn’t ever imagine. If I had a conversation with her about the stuff I’m learning, she probably wouldn’t understand half the words I was saying.
doing stuff on my own
I have a horribly inconsistent and nocturnal sleep schedule, forget to drink water, lose an average of one item per day (that I can’t find until weeks later) and eat whenever when there’s free food or decide that feeding myself is worth the time not doing something else, but it feels like an adventure trying to keep myself alive. I started learning to cook when I had creative freedom. I throw in random things at random amounts and manage to create something that tastes surprisingly better than dining hall food.
I have microwaved my attempt at fried chicken multiple times because the inside was still squishy raw after I stir fried it. My ground beef and potato was seasoned with the 7 closest spices I could grab, containing a healthy mixture of American, Asian, and violently Italian flavors. One of my wild attempts at making food gave me a mild allergic reaction— I still have no clue why, but the taste was sure as hell worth it.
you can never go wrong with soy sauce.
I have no ability to keep a calendar and have to check my class schedule for the day because I haven’t memorized it, and nothing has ever felt repetitive. I keep track of what I’m supposed to do by memorizing only what I need to do tomorrow. I don’t have too much bandwidth to stay stuck in the past, and don’t spend too much time worrying about the future and planning out details that will change when the time comes anyway. It does get a little stressful sometimes. I recognize I occasionally lack vital planning and important reflection to improve, but I find myself enjoying the time I spend in the real world much more than the time I spend in my head.
At MIT, there’s even variety in stress. Panicking about a class I need to run, an unfinished group project, a sad friend, an upcoming midterm, ec-discuss drama, and the untouched pset on the due date all feel slightly different. So while I might be stressed, it’s never boring. I like to think of them as different flavors of firehoses to drink from. Some taste like soap and gasoline, some like leaf litter, and some like cat piss, but either way you’re getting a balanced meal.
getting hosed
doing stuff with others
I’m get lost often, but there are people with me, also struggling through their mountain of work, and upperclassmen to look to for guidance.
“You’re only a year older than me.”
“I’ve also been here for three times longer than you have.”
It’s been described to me like being parented by upperclassmen. The freshmen here don’t get hazed because everyone understands how rough it is to get thrown in this kind of environment and expected to swim. Having people there to go to for advice, comfort, or even just general validation, makes everything feel more real, that everything overwhelming isn’t just something I made up in my head.
some upperclassmen i go to for support, and for entertainment at their expense.
I was froshy, because college made me feel like a child again, like a toddler first trying a banana, or a middle schooler first picking a fight. Everything is treated like an experience to be cherished. As freshman year is coming to a close, like most other people, I’ve “defroshed”. I’m starting to see cracks in the system I can’t change, and larger problems out of my control, but I’m still fairly energetic about things. I respect the upperclassmen resilient enough to remain somewhat froshy despite their years at this institute, curious and willing to try new things.
The concept of jadedness scares me a little. I’ve seen the toll it takes on my peers, and my parents as well, albeit from vastly different things. College lasts around 4 years, and the jadedness ends there as a new era starts. But what happens when you start to get jaded from life in general? When new things no longer excite you, conversations start repeating, and everything feels already happened, what are you supposed to do with yourself? I tell people my greatest fear is boredom, and I suppose this is what I mean.
When I’m groggily brushing my teeth in the morning, collapsed in the doorway of my room from a long day, or crying into my friends’ arms, I’m happy. My life could be in shambles, and this will still be the happiest I’ve ever been, because this year I am finally alive again.