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Thursday, January 30, 1997

CHOICES:

Living life as a dreamer diverts one away from intended goalsShakespeare referred to the unknown as the undiscovered country. It also made for a catchy Star Trek movie title. As not all students have left their destinies to the mercy of the Fates, some have taken the initiative and carefully designed, plotted and planned out every nook and cranny of their respective future career and/or academic goals.

Yet, for the rest of those whose impending post-graduate plans continue to reside in limbo, the present can be a most anxiety-ridden period of life.

At my freshman convocation, a professor gave a rousing speech urging us bright-eyed students to seize the day. "Carpe diem!" his voice resounded over and over again throughout the tennis court stadium.

I wasn't really paying attention at the time. The Korean drum performers drew my interest, and the guy who couldn't quite hit the high note on his rendition of the national anthem was equally amusing in a pitiable sort of way. Yet, for the duration of the ceremony, my thoughts were on the free food at the athletic field and the potentially free knickknacks from KROQ. Although all I ended up with was a disgusting, half-eaten veggie burger by the end of the day, the anonymous professors speech endured in my memory.

In reflection, the gist of the message was admirable ­ live each day to the fullest, take full advantage of every opportunity and seize the moment. A rather encouraging, if trite, sort of pep talk. Nonetheless, I took the concept to heart.

In fact, one might even credit the incorporation of this wonderfully arty Latin phrase into my personal set of beliefs as a major reason for my departure from a short-lived pre-med career. The problem was, my interpretation of carpe diem entailed playing basketball every night of the week and waiting until the last minute to study for a genetics or organic chemistry midterm. I figured if I wasted actual time studying for my science classes on a daily, regimented basis, then I would betray my noble ideals of living life to the fullest. Consequently, the gradual decline in my once mighty GPA dictated that I consider career options other than medicine.

Currently, one can find the majority of my friends and acquaintances spending time in prep courses for the medical school entrance exam. I don't know whether they made any alternative arrangements should the medical school route not work out, but the thought of risking four years of an expensive undergraduate education on one exam always scared the hell out of me.

It always seemed to me that no matter the amount of time put into planning or studying, the fate of most pre-professional students always hinged on one big test. What's worse is that all the hours, tears, death-threats to professors (I've actually had two professors who've had to endure that) and all-nighters put into the previous three or four years will buy you nothing in the end if you don't ace the exam.

The concept of living for today invariably takes a back seat to the notion of sacrificing today for a better tomorrow, as students dedicate each passing moment to the fulfillment of a future goal which may or may not blossom to fruition.

However, this inverted take on the theory of carpe diem is the only remedy one can swallow to soothe the modern ailments of intense competition in the postgraduate academic and career fields. Social Darwinism in our time dictates that those with the most extensive educational backgrounds will go on to gain economic success. By the same token, one can obtain that vaunted extensive education only through life-consuming study and resume building tactics such as internships, research projects and other volunteer activities.

The latter leads to what I call mercenary academics. Mercenary academics perfectly complement the pragmatic philosophy of our "what-can-you-do-for-me" world. Occasionally, but not always, this facet of resume-building entails free student labor in exchange for expected letters of recommendation. Sometimes, the research project or volunteer activity might provide an added and genuine personal benefit to the student-slave laborer such as the peace of mind that comes with the knowledge of a job well done. More frequently, students just can't wait for that letter.

People on this campus often tend to lose sight of why they're engaged in doing certain things that they're involved with. Looking too far off into the future can induce that.

During my second year at UCLA, I enjoyed a stint as a tutor with one of the tutorial projects on campus. My particular assignment involved going to an elementary school on weekends and helping out a grade schooler with homework and such. I met only resistance despite my best efforts to instill some sort of academic discipline in my tutee. I ended up playing baby-sitter throughout my tenure.

For a while, I couldn't figure out why the kid was giving me such a hard time. He'd show up to our meetings without his homework. He'd start staring off into space when I was speaking. More often, his mind was on something I couldn't see and he was happy with just the present.

At this point, I wish I could write something meaningful about how the kid I tutored embodied all the good points of living in the moment and not being hung up with worries about the future. Something to that effect.

However, the sad truth is that if the kid doesn't shape up and get into the rat race with the rest of his classmates, then he'll be serving burgers, fries and soft drinks at a fast food franchise sometime in the not too distant future. Maybe he'll take my order.

Or maybe I'll work the cashier next to him. The world doesn't reward dreamers. And professors don't prance around a classroom inspiring students with joyous shouts of "carpe diem!" a la Robin Williams.

No, the professor at my convocation had it all wrong. He shouldn't have urged us to "seize the day". He should have expected us to live for an undiscovered country.

Chieh Chieng