Last night I was struggling with my schoolwork and hence having a bit of a mid-week crisis. Lately I’ve been reconsiderig my major (for the upteenth time) and so when my frustration with math reached its peak, I gave up and went to talk to Stanley. I wanted to be a mechanical engineer so that I could have more choice and versatility with my future studies. With a degree in ME, I could either continue studying engineering, or transfer to an art school to study design or architecture. Having background engineering knowledge would help me the most with industrial design, yet another strong interest of mine. Not to mention I’d be able to get a job relatively easily with the engineering degree.
The worst part about the classes I have to take is that I don’t understand what’s going on. It’s a big problem, because when one doesn’t understand, it’s extremely difficult to foster an interest in the subject. Without interest, one loses motivation, which obviously leads to discontent.
Why am I still studying to be an engineer? Why haven’t I transferred out yet? I don’t have a concrete answer to these questions – I’ve been questioning my path. I used to think that the reason why I wasn’t out there studying fine art was because I lacked the skill to succeed in the art industry. But honestly, seeing where I am now and how I’m getting through my physics and math classes (barely)…I wonder if I’m that much better at comprehending the maths and sciences. Which just means, no matter what I do I need to work hard. Who cares if I’m not good at it. Like my dad claims, perseverance is key to success. Is it really? Will working hard without enjoying my work now be worth it in a few years? I can tell myself it’s just a few years to get through, and it’ll be okay, I’ll be done soon. But I mean, is that really what I want to be doing?
Yes, I guess it really is. I want to be a mechanical engineer. I want to be able to say I did it, and to have learned what I claimed I would. Even if it’s solely out of spite (which I used to avoid at all costs, now I’m just accepting myself) I don’t care, because I chose this and I’m going to do it.
It’s not too late to change my mind, but that’s irrelevent now. My dad told me in the middle of my first year, that if I really wanted to transfer into a significantly different major, then I could stay at UCLA a fifth year to graduate. I’m almost halfway through my second year of college, but I know that if I wanted to get out, I still could. If I decided that I were unhappy enough to really want to leave HSSEAS, I would. But I’m not as unhappy as I seem to complain about, actually. Because, I guess, it’s just so satisfying to walk into a classroom full of nerdy looking Asian guys and know that I’m just as good as they are. (Just kidding.) More like, although everything so so freaking difficult to understand, I know that love learning. The harder a class is, the more I learn from taking it. So I should (and do, I guess) enjoy my classes, in a way.
Educational masochist, yeah, that’s me.