Sometimes we just need an inch. In times of stagnation, or when it seems that there is no path to victory, something as small as an inch reminds us that there is hope.
int motorpin = 3;
I should have capitalized the “p.” I was terrified of frying the circuit board, and I knew that the motor’s inability to move meant that it was all over, I must have fried it. I’d spent the past two days devising a plan to hook the board up to a simple motor. Not only were my Mechanical Engineering skills useless with the electrical beast, but my education reinforced the idea that any small misstep could lead to catastrophic failure. I noticed the error in the code, and held my breathe as I flipped the switch. The motor turned, stopped, and turned again, just as I’d programmed it to do. This was an immense victory, and I was jettisoned from the pit of impossibility that had consumed the project. It was only an inch. Sometimes its as simple as giving yourself permission to royally fuck up, and it was this daring that lead to a small victory. This lead to quite a few more failures, which lead to a handful of successes. Each individual failure, risk, and success were all necessary to keep the project alive. Each forced me to experience something new. A burned-out pump required me to reluctantly push for faster shipping. I hate making waves, but the project forced me to throw a few boulders into the water. I learned how to use a mill and get clean edges, wire micro controllers, use electronic switches, wire bread boards, and even write a bit of code. Most of these accomplishments were crude or simple, but they served as inches creeping to a seemingly unreachable goal.
No Pressure
I’d probably spent a combined 12 hours trying to get that damned contraption to pick up an off-brand Ibuprofin, but it just couldn’t do it more than occasionally. I was working under the assumption that a failure to meet this basic project goal would result in a failure to graduate, but I’d forgotten the purpose of the whole project.
The pump whirred to life, sluggish but still breathing. It was caked with hot glue and had a predicted lifespan of mere moments. I knew that the little vacuum pump wasn’t strong enough to lift the pill, but I didn’t know if this would warrant a big honking “F” on our senior project. The piston lowered and fell perfectly onto the surface of the pill, which buzzed hopefully but ultimately failed to move. I watched our advisor’s expression for even the slightest hint of disappointment, but I got nothing. We finished our presentation and waited for the barrage of criticism, but it never came.
You’re exactly where I expected you to be. Great job!
With the help of close friends and many extended periods of reflection, I’ve decided to walk at my graduation. I told myself that walking wasn’t a celebration of the college that I’ve grown to loathe or the degree that I feel is meaningless, but the inches that I’ve gained. It’s hard to imagine how it’s going to feel to graduate, but I imagine it feels something like this:
I’ve discussed my bitterness regarding the college experience on several occasions, but I’ve never talked of my attempts at letting go of it. I have this fear that I’ve become a bitter person because of my experiences with my college, especially the lack of care or concern exhibited by the people who run things. Its hard for me to walk into an engineering building without the dementors emerging from the cracks and crevices of the brick. I hate that this is the song that runs through my head when I think of saying goodbye to some of my professors:
But these are thoughts, and thoughts, like death and taxes, are unavoidable and uncontrollable. I was going to skip graduation out of bitterness, but this would have been a mistake. I’m claiming my inch, my life, and I’m celebrating all of the things that have made me want to live through all of the negative experiences. Sure, I probably would have figured out that AOL wasn’t necessary to access the internet, but there’s a slew of things that I would’ve never happened if it wasn’t for the cockroach infested dorm that leeched $1,000 a month from my bank account. There would have been no Starcraft marathons, or the epidemic known as WoW. I would have never played ping pong, or learned of the existence of Terry Pratchett, and I would have missed out on nearly every amazing person that I know. I would not be sitting here now, thinking of all of the incredible things that I’ve experienced and continue to experience. The black gown hangs on the back of the door waiting for me. Orange is my favorite color, and the tassel reminds me of sunrise. The sun is indeed rising, and it’s time to bask in its glory.