Convergence

"College is an opportunity to stand outside the world for a few years, between the orthodoxy of your family and the exigencies of career, and contemplate things from a distance." -William Deresiewicz, in Don't Send Your Kid to the Ivy League

While the merits of the article is a totally different conversation, that line itself is among the most profound framings of what college is for that I've heard. It doesn't excuse irresponsible behavior, but it also doesn't advocate any one course of action as the responsible course of action.

I've been thinking a lot about what it means for behavior to be considered emotionally mature. There are many people I consider emotionally mature, but their behavior vary so widely that it really doesn't narrow anything down. For instance, I have a lot of respect for both A- and R- because they both seem to have a remarkably keen level of self-awareness and it seems so effortless on their part (which I understand it might not actually be). However, what they actually do are so vastly different--how do I reconcile that for some people, [responsibly and intelligently] indulging in parties and hookup culture is very consistent with what emotional maturity is for them, while for others staying in and introspecting or reading or having long, meaningful conversations is their manifestation of emotional maturity? Which is it for me?

On the other hand, there are people whose lives are more or less "figured out" by common standards such as income and job security, but honestly seem so juvenile to me. My dad for instance--I feel decades older and wiser than him. The way he handles conflict and confrontation makes me want to go up to him, shake him, and tell him to grow up. I talked to my sister in a heartfelt way for the first time ever (which was incredible and uplifting). She told me about how her relationships were going, how her work was going, and her aspirations after college, even though it was honestly mostly quite bland and stuff I already knew from observing at a distance. In addition, she said that when my dad took her out to dinner for our birthday, he tried to secretly take pictures to send to our grandparents because he didn't want to ask because he was afraid of being turned down.

That's so painful to hear. Thanks to E-, I've gotten to a point where I can see past what my dad did wrong and realize that he's actually just awful at dealing with and confronting emotions, but as his son I'm in no position to try to initiate corrective action. He'd be too prideful to do anything about it now that he's in so deep (i.e. divorced). I wish I could've empathized with him sooner, and maybe communicate that I (and the rest of my family, at least at the time) cared about him. Now, it might be too late. I look forward to the day where I've accomplished something in my life that gives me credibility in how to live, and I can actually go up to him, shake him, and help him grow up. Until then, each conversation with him is a frustrating conversation in which I see things I don't want to be, and it simultaneously helps me avoid his behavior and scares me to death because I share half my biology with him, all the while feeling powerless to help him.

When I think about what it means to be liberated from the constraints of family and the pragmatics of the real world a la the quote above, it certainly doesn't mean act impulsively with no regard to consequences. Instead, it basically means screw up, but only if with a purpose. This is the time during which all of my relationship and career choices leads to low-inertia trajectories, or as if on ice: even the smallest disruptions/decisions will be amplified into significant motion in that particular direction, but can also be easily shifted by further disruptions.

Unfortunately, when I bring this back to the emotional maturity piece, it is at odds with my goals in that regard. I feel that, as a consequence of various circumstances in my life, I've been privy to variety, both in facets of myself and of other people around me. While I don't claim to even come close to having dealt with some of the shit that some people I know have dealt with (K- from Tetris comes to mind), I feel like I've had a non-negligible exposure to assholes and found qualities in myself that disgust me such that I can start to develop heuristics to help me converge on behavior I want to see in myself and people I want to let into my life permanently.

In this sense, I feel old or adult. I feel like I've already gone through the low-inertia stages, but simply not temporally aligned with my college career. As the quote would suggest, everything about the low-inertia nature of young adult life trajectory leads to oscillation away from convergence. This brings me to the next thing I've been thinking about a lot: where my preferences are on the affective circumplex, and what that means about the kinds of interactions I seek with people that occupy different roles in my life.

The affective circumplex         

Before I actually delve into where I currently lie on the circumplex, I feel like there are two obvious but important things to note based on my observations. First, each axis is different for each individual. For one person, biking without a helmet might be a high arousal activity, while for another anything shy of offroad trick biking is low arousal. Secondly, where you lie on the circumplex is not static--it will change throughout life. In general, as people age they tend towards LAP (low arousal positive) over HAP, consistent with socioemotional selectivity theory (SES theory), which states that as people's perceived time horizon shrinks, they narrow the breadth (oscillation) of their social interactions in favor of depth (convergence). Less variation leads to more arousal habituation. But within age cohorts there are large variations, and decay also differs from person to person. Instead, more immediately, life circumstances can have a large bearing on your preference. If you grow up in a shady neighborhood rampant with crime, you will be conditioned to relatively higher levels of arousal.

What remains consistent across all people though, regardless of relative intensities of each axis, is that HAP, whatever it means for them, is not sustainable. By nature of conditioning, repeated instances of the same intensity of stimuli becomes decreasingly less arousing. Just ask any horror movie director.

So where does that leave me, college students, and people in general?

For one, SES theory can be expanded beyond a lifetime as a frame of reference. I've come to realize that, in a sort of fractal-esque behavior, observing smaller phases of one's life reveals similar trends to general aging. There is general change to greater LAP:HAP ratio relative to the initial ratio at the start of that life phase. This includes well-defined and relatively rigid life intervals such as high school and college, but also more fluid intervals such as relationships, job positions, etc. Just as with old age in a lifetime, within particular frames of reference there is a gradual decay in HAP preference, and in transitory periods there is a renewal of HAP preference.

Honestly, I feel like I'm figuring out the things that people generally figure out during a midlife crisis. In both a career and interpersonal relationships realm, I'm thinking critically about what they want at the endpoint of everything (when everything converges), rather than employing a greedy algorithm as I go through day-to-day life. When it comes to career, I've discovered that I don't need a fast-paced work environment the same way a canonical Millenial does. Similarly, the relationships I've had with people in LAP-oriented stages of their lives have deepened, while I've had a (relative) falling out with people who seem far more HAP-seeking.

Why is that exactly? For me, I think it has something to do with the nature of LAP and HAP activities. LAP activities are inherently unsexy compared to HAP activities. Independently reading books quietly with someone or brushing teeth together (without any I'm-rubbing-toothpaste-playfully-on-your-face shenanigans, ahem romcoms) is far less of a Kodak moment than is a surprise scavenger hunt or a tropical getaway vacation. The number of people I have the desire to (which often translates to patience for, as awful as that sounds) share LAP moments with is far fewer than the number of people I want to engage in HAP activities with. The causes or companies I'm willing to do mundane work for because I so completely believe in the cause or company is fewer than the number of companies who have sexy, exciting new products.

In that sense, convergent routine is incredibly counter-intuitive. What I've come to realize all too late, and what my dad failed to understand, is that the absence of the rainbows-and-butterflies of HAP is not a sign that the magic is gone. A job or a relationship is unhealthy when the only present quadrants are LAN, HAN, and HAP. Contrarily, if you can find LAP, hang on and never let go. The desire and willingness to be together even if it is "only" LAP is the magic! I wish I knew this earlier, but even so I anticipate this being invaluable going forward in my relationship and career endeavors.

To answer a question A- posed to me while in SF this weekend on my birthday, by the end of my college career I want to know the types of work and find the people with whom there's a symbiotic, mutual desire to share LAP, and then make sure they know it. In fact, if I achieve this ever, even if it takes another two decades (or eight more), I'll consider my life well-lived. But apparently from others' perspective, there's an element of the-sooner-the-better; maybe that's where my flavor of emotional maturity is pushing me. I was watching a video from a friend of mine, and in S-'s words as she saw how I was reacting: "There are some people who you see the way they respond to kids and you think 'You need to have children right now.' You're one of them. They'd make you so happy." While I've certainly entertained thoughts like 'what kind of father do I want to be?', a more generalized interpretation of S-'s statement is consistent with something I've realized: that I can comfortably join in on conversations about marriage with my late-20s through mid-30s coworkers and project forward my imagination and empathize with a parent delighting in his toddler to the point that a statement like S-'s would be made means I've been incredibly lucky to have had the people and environments, for better or worse, in my life that's led to the relative clarity I [seem to] have about my life.

The key words of the previous paragraph is, as the boldface suggests, making sure they (people, job) knows that they occupy a place in your life of such depth and importance. Unlike HAP, the inherently mundane, routine, unsexy nature of LAP means that is not a beacon that broadcasts easily detectable emotions. If you look at the circumplex, which emotion is easier to detect, serene or excited? Clearly excited, but serene is more positive! The detectability of positive (and negative) emotions isn't necessarily correlated with their magnitude of positivity (and negativity)!

For two entities to realize their willingness, even eagerness to share LAP activities together, that requires taking a pretty big risk to say so and even more effort to make sure the true weight of it is heard. There certainly isn't a guarantee that the risk and effort will pay off--chances are, it won't. In every realm, be it family, or career, or friendship, or romance, for every person with a wild success story there must be dozens more with only-partial successes, but even then it's a success! Intent matters! When it comes down to it, the risk and effort pales in comparison to guaranteed failure. Don't be left with the pain of thinking it, meaning it with all your heart, and never truly showing it, because you might not get another chance to, and it won't matter how much you continue to mean it with all your heart. That shit hurts.

Revisiting Drinking

These thoughts have been brewing in my mind (pun intended) for a week or so, but only now did I find the time to sit down and think through it.

I was trying to pinpoint my aversion to drinking. Throughout my childhood, my parents have, with some regularity, consumed alcohol in the form of wine or champagne. During high school, they had taken up more "American" forms of alcohol too: beer, off-the-shelf, hard fruity beverages. In other words, aversion to alcohol has not been something that has been instilled in me throughout my childhood.

My aversion to alcohol was primarily by conscious choice (as opposed to habit, learned values, or conditioned). In the last two years, I saw my mom resorting to alcohol to deal with her problems, and I told myself I did not want to turn to alcohol to solve any problems I might encounter.

Of course, it's also illegal at my current age. By my judgement, Stanford law enforcement (whether in the form of adults in the dorm, i.e. RFs, or actual on-campus sheriffs) are fairly relaxed about drinking law. Obviously, if you get transported or get a DUI/BUI/public drunkenness citation, it'll still go your record. This got me to thinking: what is the real reason why alcohol is illegal?

As far as I can tell, the intent of minimum age drinking (as well as any other drugs, like nicotine for instance) laws is to prevent irresponsible substance use. The fact that Stanford is so lax about these laws in casual environments (within dorms during parties and whatnot), and actually has programming that do not strictly discourage people from drinking (i.e. encourages people, if they choose to drink, to stay within the "social zone") seems to imply that they are confident in Stanford students' ability to make responsible decisions for themselves.

Indeed, over the weeks here I am realizing I am far more responsible than I gave myself credit for. It helped that last week a lot of the people I consider my role models and relate heavily to demonstrated (not intentionally to me in particular) that they were able to let loose without going overboard. The one time last quarter that I first consumed alcohol by choice did not propel me into a downward spiral of alcohol consumption. In addition, I think as strong a reason as not wanting to actually be irresponsible was the desire not to even possibly have an image of being irresponsible. Because alcohol is so commonly portrayed as (and at times is) the cause of crazy, irresponsible behavior, I did not want anyone to be thought of one of "those" college students.

What does this mean? It means I'm at this conflicted crossroads. I am becoming more comfortable with the idea of drinking because 1) I am feeling increased certainty that I won't adopt behavior similar to what my mom did (and she's getting better herself, so that helps), 2) some of the people I look up to the most and whose quality of character I consider admirable, respectable, and strive to embody myself are able to fit alcohol consumption into their lifestyle (the phrasing of this meaning to suggest that responsible alcohol consumption would not inhibit my ability to be the kind of person I want to be, rather than that I strive to be someone whose quality of character includes alcohol consumption), and 3) it simply felt good being less tightly-strung and feeling my muscles and emotion unwind with small quantities of alcohol.

When I look at that list, all of them are personal reasons. I've always been good at staying true to my own values and being outspoken about things I believe in. None of those reasons are a contradiction to my beliefs (e.g. out of peer pressure); instead, my reconsideration of the topic is due to a fundamental shift in my beliefs.

At the same time, a lot of the friends I'm closest to don't drink, and we got close because on weekends we seek non-alcoholic forms of recreation, etc. Will drinking ruin these friendships, and if so will the friendships I forge with other measured, responsible drinkers (which I am confident I can distinguish from irresponsible drinkers, and proceed to surround myself with) be worth the demise of these older friendships?

Honestly do not know.

Stanford so far

This past Wednesday, I went back to Interlake to visit friends and teachers. Some of the interactions I had today were downright appalling. Others were simply incredibly thought provoking. The highlights, some of which are arguably lowlights:

• Mr. D-: I walked in on his gifted junior government class on an exam day, so while he was passing out scantrons and exams he offered the class a chance to ask me questions about college. He framed it as "a rare opportunity to talk to someone who just came out of your program [the gifted program] and is at a college that some people might consider decent." He himself posed the question "If you could go back and tell yourself one thing first semester junior year [the age of the class I was in], what would it be and why?" I couldn't answer it immediately, but I came back 5 minutes from the end of class and after a good amount of reflection, I decided it was to read more non-fiction. Not necessarily from books, but from blogs, newspapers, anywhere I could find anything that interests me. I then made the claim: "If you don't know what to write for a college essay, you have not read enough." In retrospect, I don't know if I agree with that, but it sounds good.
• Mr. D- and I both came to the conclusion that even though the enrollment in CS106 courses are up 1100/year in the last 4 years at Stanford, as per Mehran, we're not actually achieving what the American economy truly needs. When pundits say we need more people in STEM jobs, they mean for colleges to crank out more engineering and science majors, but honestly we're just creating another labor source that requires immense training. Talented, but still a mindless labor force. It's unnerving that there is such an elitism surrounding the culture of techies and condescension towards fuzzies, because as far as I'm concerned in no job will you not benefit from being well-rounded and educated in not only the technical details but also leadership, communication, and rhetorical skills, for instance. I am damn proud to be a fuckie, and we need more people who will embrace both dimensions of intellect to actually transform our economic landscape.
• Mr. C-: He asked me to describe my Interlake experience in one word. I said "limiting." In spite of having an internship built into my senior year, in spite of IB being offered in sophomore and junior year such that I'd have my diploma in hand when I applied to college, in spite of over 10 AP classes being offered, in spite of a student population in which 49 languages and all major religions were represented, I said limiting. What? Looking back, I can immediately see why he was so shocked, because I clearly took a lot for granted. However, I definitely still stand by my choice, because the homogeneity of the gifted program, and my being too ignorant and naive and complacent to expand my horizons to interact with others beyond the gifted program meant I had a very lopsided worldview throughout my last 7 years, and coming to Stanford opened my eyes wide. Very, very wide. In fact, I know Asians are supposed to be a minority, but I've never actually felt like a minority until today, when we took a gas stop at Vancouver, WA, and also back in the dorm when a lot of the Asian snacks were totally foreign, and being able to speak fluent Mandarin is considered exotic.
• At the same time, Mr. C- also pointed out that there were easily a lot of people impressed by what I accomplished in high school. I never thought about it this way, since a large number of people seemed to have fantastic internships, and go off to amazing schools. Huge culture shock.
• I told S-, A-, and P- that they were boring. They were among some of my closer friends back in Washington, but honestly their ability to fuel thought-provoking, exciting, intellectually stimulating conversations pale to a degree that I never imagined compared to those at Stanford. Don't get me wrong, they're not any less intelligent than Stanford kids (you get into PRISM by passing an IQ threshold after all), but rather their collective experiences are just far more underwhelming and far less diverse, to no fault of their own.

These last two months have easily been the best two months of my life so far. Maybe it's just relative to my last two years these months have been monumentally better, but I don't think so. Being surrounded by people who are genuinely excited and take pride in being intellectual is a fantastic experience. That doesn't even happen in all institutions of higher education, but merely the higher caliber colleges. I have never been around so many people intrinsically motivated to learn--not necessarily for a higher salary, or because their parents demanded it, but those can be factors too--than here. And when glimmers of this abundance of and yet still thirst for knowledge show up even in everyday activities like movies, or music nights, or small talk over meals, it is simply intoxicating. I've got to say that must be the reason Stanford on the whole, academics or otherwise, have been great.

(Oh, did I mention my dormmates are incredible? There are people in everywhere on the relationship closeness continuum of acquaintances to familial with a hint of romantic...)

The day before college begins

NSO starts tomorrow.

My dad flew home today. No tears were shed in a sentimental goodbye.

(In the meantime, my sister made my mom cry by complaining about not being able to go souvenir shopping ceaselessly after she drove over 250 miles in back to back days and was exhausted.)


---

I don't know what to feel right now. I'm not nervous. I'm not anxious. I'm pretty excited, but not bouncing off the wall excited.

I just have this nagging feeling that I forgot something back in Washington. Not something tangible though, not a belonging I needed to bring to my dorm or anything. I guess I just feel like I left a lot of loose strings in the various storylines of my life back in Washington.

My mom is pissing me off.

My mom holds literally everything against me. She is so full of contradictions and so devoid of sense. Let's see what accusations I've received recently.

• My sister goes out and parties too much with her friends, therefore it becomes my sole responsibility to care for her because nobody else will. Way to address the root of the problem!
• My mom tells me that she doesn't want me attending her breast cancer examinations because, after all, it's breast cancer and that gets awkward. Then, she says I'm heartless and impatient because I never go with her to examinations and help her translate what the doctors say.
• My mom tells me that she doesn't want to get involved with college stuff (applications, housing, meal plans, move-in stuff, basically all the orientation things) because there's too much English, and that she trusts I can handle it. Then, she says she feels hurt that I keep shutting her out of college information, and she feels unwelcome and not knowledgeable when she talks to other parents at any admit receptions/sendoff parties.
• I've finally turned 18, and therefore it is my responsibility to become more independent (with planning my own activities, chores, work, etc.). Oh wait! How dare I not inform her of every little detail in my life?? She didn't raise me 18 full years just so I can sever family ties. I'm still her baby, and she has every right to know who I talk to, what I read and do.
• When I do tell my mom something, she then proceeds to forget within the next five minutes. Then she'll ask me again, and forget again. If she asks some three or four times, I'll tell her, I've told you before. Then she'll condescendingly question--is this how you're treating me when I'm in my mid-40s? I can't imagine how bad you'll be when my memory's even worse later on. How hard is it to just repeat it once more? Believe it or not, just because you've forgotten something I've told you, doesn't make me in the wrong for not telling you. Sure you can't really be blamed for forgetting, I understand it's a biological thing that comes with aging, but I sure as hell am not intentionally disrespecting you, nor in the wrong for being annoyed at repeating something as many as eight or nine times.

Whenever my mom talks to me, she is always card stacking. Always. I do almost all the chores because my sister doesn't, act as a liaison or translator between my mom and school administrators and teachers, cashiers at the grocery store, handymen for car maintenance, and pretty much fucking everything. I've must've moved tens of thousands of pounds of groceries, and helped her lug the 40ish-lb vacuum cleaner up an down the stairs hundreds of times.

And the worst part is, I don't even try to point out how wrong she is when she berates me for all this shit. She'd just say I have no right to point out her mistakes because she's my mom. I just sit and listen to her hurl these accusations. Today, she got mad at me for looking angry when she's talking to me. Am I not allowed to look angry?

When I was like 7, my 2nd grade teacher was trying to explain the difference between house and home. She said that house is just a physical object, but home implies an associated feeling of comfort. Seeing those "Welcome home" signs in pictures of past Stanford NSOs makes me think: I'm so damn glad I'm leaving for college soon, because that's where home is. It's kind of silly how teachers try to teach little kids that with the word "family" carries implied feelings of affection and love. The last two years of my life have really proven otherwise.

I wonder which takes longer to sink in, realizing you're done with high school and going off to college, or news that your mom has cancer.

Some recent meaningful episodes of communication

In the past 24 hours, three people have really taken the time to just communicate to me.

One of the conversations wasn't pleasant at all--far from it, actually, and it left me in a terrible and irritable mood--but it was meaningful and deep nevertheless. It was about friendship and grudges, and the conversation was had face-to-face, and I liked that. It ended on a horrible note though, with the two of us stubbornly insisting that we'd never talk to each other again, and I'm not sure if I meant that. On the one hand, I felt that she was being extremely immature and not respecting my opinion, and also not understanding everything I've been through when it comes to family and robotics. On the other hand, I feel like she had good intentions, but simply conveyed it terribly and immaturely.

The other two came in the form of handwritten letters. Both of them were thought-provoking and a little on the flattering side, though both authors made sure to clarify that no flattery was intended, and they were simply speaking the truth. In any case, they were really heartfelt, and I kind of got goosebumps as I read them. I have a need to be needed or appreciated, and satisfying that need isn't an everyday occurrence.

Perhaps the saddest thing is that in all three of these cases, the people involved I've known for two years or fewer. I have way more to say writing in the yearbooks of people I haven't been in classes with for upwards of four or five years. I'd like to believe that it's not because we've grown apart with time, but that it's simply a personality kind of thing, that even if I had been with the same people for only a year, I'd have just as little to say to them. Ultimately, I think that it'll become apparent soon with the inevitable distance as we go off to college which of my friends I miss and which I don't.