Campus Life frosh files

Fail loudly, dream louder

Soon, the failures will seem like nothing at all

At the start of the school year, I decided I would document all my failures.

I locked myself out of my room seven times this semester.

Near the start of the year, I was cooking what my friend called “Japanese prison food.” Was it just miso paste, noodles, and vegetables boiled in a pot and hastily adorned with sesame seeds and furikake seasoning? Perhaps.

When I was looking for 32-004 to take my first 6.1010 quiz, I got lost navigating the twists and turns of Stata. At one point, I found myself in some kitchen storage area. Mind you, I had stumbled upon this spot before, but in my panicked state five minutes before the quiz, I completely lost my navigation skills.

These are just a sampler; believe me, there are many, many more. 

We should be more open with our failures. Usually, we only see each other’s outcomes, so what tends to happen is we show off our successes and hide our failures. As a result, I think failures are underrepresented. There’s also a general sense of shame surrounding failure — either that, or it gets brushed off. While it’s very natural to tell someone “it’s okay” and provide encouragement, it’s also worth revisiting the failure and discussing what can be learned from the experience.

A natural question might be, “What constitutes a failure?” To me, a failure counts as an event that results in an undesirable outcome initially; in hindsight, I might be grateful for said failure, but there’s an initial feeling of disappointment. This might range from flunking a test to having an application rejected.

However, I think the term “failure” is a little heavy for some of the events I want to share. So instead, to keep up with Gen Z (or at this point, alpha (α)?) slang, I’ll call them “cooked moments.”

For each month, I kept a list of my cooked moments just for you all!

August

 

September

 

October

 

November

 

At the time of writing, December hasn’t really happened, but I’m quite worried about finals week. In the end, as all things are, I’m confident things will work out in their own ways, just like how everything else has before.

Although there were a lot of failures, there were also some surprising moments I was quite happy with:

At the beginning of the fall semester, I made an effort to do some boundary testing, meaning I would try to push the limits of what I could achieve. Now that we’re at the end of the semester, I still think I didn’t actually reach the boundary; there are still more clubs, places, and activities to explore.

If you never climb, you never fall. But if you were told you were guaranteed to fall, perhaps even thirty times before you finally found your footing, wouldn’t you try to fall as soon and as quickly as possible?