It has been exactly one year since I’ve reflected on my
whole college experience for the ILC. It’s been just as long since I’ve been
home in the Bay Area. To say that there’s been a lot of changes is an
understatement. Truly, I am having trouble starting sentences because just
thinking through all I want to talk about (and don’t) feels overwhelming, let
alone challenging to organize into a neat narrative. At least, that is how I
feel about my college experience thus far.
For inspiration, I decided to read through my last ILC reflection
from one year ago. Given that there was rarely a dull moment in-between then
and now, I was excited to reintroduce myself to someone I had more or less
forgotten under layers and layers of new memories. By the end of reading my
post however, I found it both eerie to realize how much dissonance now stood
between me and, well, me, but also – and more personally striking – what it was
that we still shared that prevents me from feeling completely detached from
her. It is difficult to keep track of all the episodes that contributed to this
‘transformation’ but that’s probably the best way I can describe the college
experience so far – my own at the very least – when you expose your mind and
heart to all it has and can offer you. As a result, I feel that the best way to
ease into this reflection is to assess who I was one year ago.
Back in 2012, Dyana was at what she called “an epic liminal”
space at the University of Pennsylvania. Making the most of her time was a
leading concern and subsequent catalyst for much of her spontaneous actions.
Even though she couldn’t help but view herself wedged in Penn’s undergraduate
culture of inseparable pre-professionalism, she remained optimistic about being
in an environment that always gave her inspiration for constructing her
“complicated blueprint” of “her place on campus”. Though the optimism she
expressed was genuine, it was also the default-by-habit way she knew how to
address anything that was unfamiliar and unresolved. However, unlike not
knowing something she read in a book, or not knowing where she would go to
college, the ‘magnitude of importance’ that seemed to come with – and she also
let manifest into – thoughts about her place in the future after college, gradually
became so frighteningly paralyzing that it was also easy to forget that it was
supposed to be exciting as well.
Perhaps this was a typical phase of many freshmen’s
experiences. I had just returned home after 5 months of being away on my own
for the first time and the greater difference of time remaining of the
semesters I had left at Penn, juxtaposed to the time I had used up so far was
large enough that any ‘mistakes’ made in my first semester could still be
comfortably redefined as ‘fine opportunities for growth’. Ironically, however,
it was my desire to be mature about college in such a black-and-white way that
made me most naïve. In actuality, the time I always felt I was racing to beat was
largely self-imposed and only further blinded me from realizing that constantly
thinking about the future meant I was missing out on appreciating the present.
Since my middle school days to now, I’ve been told that
college is the place to find oneself but I realized that I did not know what I
was looking for. Decidedly taking a liberal arts approach to my undergraduate
Penn education also made me realize this sooner, for I found myself entering
phases of deep criticism and skepticisms about such reoccurring motifs as
fidelity, morality, objectivity, truth, etc., that it was impossible for me to
keep such thoughts only within the confines of classrooms. Before I knew it, I
became as much of a reflector of the content I was learning as the topics I
would write papers about, and when you start to find it hard to resist thinking
about additional aspects of problems that were not explicitly stated, daily
life stubbornly slows, demanding a thorough double-take.
Thus, the choices one makes during college, and how, are so
important. Not – and I really stress this – because everything you do in
college suddenly has this magical weight of importance relative to any other
time of your life, or that every decision you make is from here-on-out
trajectory to your post-college career(s), but because the unique environment
that you are in gives you an opportunity to explore something that isn’t
supposed to be defined yet. One of the most limiting outlooks you could impose
on yourself is the assumption that you already know what you’re looking for,
that you let your confidence run its course instead of inviting doubt in to
challenge. Even for those who pursue a pre-professional path in undergraduate
school, should be more open to the wide range of possibilities that comes with
their desired careers. And though I periodically envy those who are perfectly
content with the plans they are pursuing in college (the pre-meds, the
engineers, the nurses, the Whartonites, etc.), I have come to accept that I
cannot expect myself to move any faster towards a lifestyle that I only want
immediately out of haste. I’ve decided that understanding who I am and what my
affinities are will be my leading priorities of my undergraduate education.
Perhaps I will be lucky and find my ‘true calling’ – if it exists – but before
I throw another graduation tassel in the air, I will be content if I can come
closer to understanding selflessness through selfishness.
One year ago, I would have hoped that I could, at the very
least, share what my intended major was by now. Though I’ve personally come a
long way from being someone that gets too caught up with regrets, the one
advice I would give anyone about declaring a major is this: choose something
you really like. I will not deny that planning very far ahead has great value
but the greatest value you can be to others, as I’ve come to accept, is when
you do something you love. Passion goes a long way. It is what will motivate
you to explore new perspectives others will not think about; it is what will
naturally convert your setbacks to enticing challenges to overcome; it is what
makes what makes work not feel like work; and it is what is most contagious to
inspire in others to do the same for them. There was a point shortly after
winter break last year that I heavily considered joining the Naval Reserve
Officers’ Training Corps (NROTC) at Penn because the discomfort of not knowing
what I was to make of myself in college was strong enough to make me willing to
substitute a lifetime’s guarantee of stability over a chance to find something
I truly love. Very people in the world can honestly say they love what they do,
and for many, it’s because they were never given that chance to explore what it
is that they like. College will not give you the answer but its environment,
its resources, and most importantly, what you choose to do with what it offers
you, can bring you closer.
This optimism, while different, not only assures me that
there are some aspects of my character that will likely ever change, but it
also helps me measure just how much one grows according to the environment you
are in. Before, I used to think that any college experience would suffice for
me if I make the most of what they have to offer, but by embodying this
mentality, I’ve also presupposed I knew a part of me well enough to be assured
of this (the one outlook I’ve advised one not to take). This notion might feel
applicable during freshman year, but choosing a school that will challenge your
current personality most will start taking affect after you get start getting
comfortable in your new environment. My writing seminar professor this
semester, who is also a graduate student at Penn, is from Spain and she told me
how surprised she was to discover how fast everything was at Penn. “Pushing
people at the deeper end of the pool to teach them how to swim well does not
work for everyone,” she reminds me. “Some people may drown.”
I have doubted whether Penn was the right place for me,
often at times when things were most challenging and when making oneself
vulnerable to comparisons to others was so natural and easy. Three semesters
later however, especially in reflecting who I would miss out on becoming
without the unique experiences I’ve had as a result of being at Penn and living
in Philadelphia (a city I’ve really come to love), I am honestly very content
to be a Quaker. I’ve made some very genuine friendships and found really wise
mentors here. Sometimes there are too many adventures and ‘coffee chats’ to
plan in a week. This past semester was the most challenging for me –
academically, mentally, physically, and spiritually – but it has been the best
so far.
Over winter break this year, I will be deeply assessing the
two leading options for my major: a visual studies and cinema studies double
major or an individualized major concentrating in adaptation studies. Because I
don’t believe my major will be trajectory to any specific career, my decision
will ultimately depend on what I think challenges my character and fuels my
passions best. Academically speaking, an interdisciplinary approach to
interpreting visual content is what I find myself gravitating towards most,
with reoccurring side interests in east-west comparative philosophy, minority
studies, and communications. Within the Penn community, I am a peer counselor
for PennCAP (College Achievement Program) freshman students and a CWiC
(Communication within the Curriculum) advisor currently helping Vagelos
biochemistry students with their science presentation oral/visual delivery and
organization. I recently finished working with a student group planning a
weeklong celebration of Asian American heritage celebration at Penn,
contributing predominantly in design and marketing. For this upcoming semester,
I’m looking forward to cutting back on extracurricular activities with heavy
commitments so I can focus more on school, getting back into kendo, and my
personal exploration of the arts.
There is always more I could share but I don’t want to be
too prolix. If after reading this you would like to learn more or share your
own thoughts about what I’ve written, I really encourage you to contact me
personally. Learning is always reciprocated, never one-sided and engaging with
those who come from our school district really holds a special place in my
heart. You can contact me at dyanawingtungso@gmail.com
and I look forward to getting to know you.
All the best,
Dyana W. T. So
