Author: Wes

Writer, runner, student.

what happens when you’re the most clueless person in the group

Last quarter I found myself working with some incredible people. Older, disciplined, and with the skills & enthusiasm to bring their big ideas to life. They’re the kind of people you would look at and say, “yeah, they have it together.” In other words: you want to be in their group for a school project.

And I was! How exciting.

But then doubt started to settle in: I was the most junior out of the three. I had no experience. No intuition or previous exposure to the relevant subject. (Meanwhile, they both had years of research and industry experience). Intelligence and growth are not static, but I wouldn’t be able to match their expertise within a semester, let alone a year. This wasn’t pessimism speaking, just reality.

At first it felt more comfortable to put the doubt on them. Why did they ask me to join their group? They must have made a mistake in asking me.  How long will it take for them to realize that? All those questions were a way of dodging the underlying fear: that I would never measure up to their abilities, and that halfway through the semester, they would find out that I’m no good and boot me out of the group.

~

That never happened. They were both very sweet and encouraging, but I remember stressing a lot about that.

A better way to look at it:

When you are working with people who are, objectively speaking, out of your league — realize that there is still something you can offer, even if it is just a different perspective. Get three different people from the same discipline and position in life and you will have three different people offer the same solution to the problem. That’s why you’re in the mix: to put some fresh blood into the group.

Work less on judging on yourself, and work more on what you can give to the group and to other people. You’ll find that:

  1. The quality of your output will improve.
  2. The group dynamics will improve. (it’s exhausting to always have to affirm to another person that yes, they are wanted in the group, and that yes, they are doing a fine job)
  3. And you, yourself, will improve. (all that time spent judging is now spent on your growth as a human being, and on the well-being of the people you care about)

All this from a subtle change in mindset.

wrapping up the night

My roommate Victor from France tells me that his favorite moment of the night is when he finally takes off his shoes, knowing that he won’t be putting them on again until the sun comes up the next day. He tells me this as he sits on the sofa, feet on the coffee table.

I thought it would be him enjoying the late night snack (potatoes + garlic + onions) he just fried at 1 AM in the morning; perhaps it’s the combination of the two.

not the typical status update

The other day I was sluggish getting out of bed. I took my phone out and starting scrolling down the Facebook feed; only my thumb is moving at this point. Up comes a status update from my old neighbor. It’s been over a year since we’ve last spoken.

There she is, just as I remember.  This time she looks cheerful in the hospital room, about to go through her first round of chemo.

 

Wait, what?

~

I didn’t stay in bed for long.

We’d always gotten along, but we lost contact after we moved away. I sent her a message the same day, but it shouldn’t take cancer for one person to reach out to another.

She’ll be okay. But just as she says in her own words, nobody expects to get cancer at 22. (I’m 20 now — when will it be my turn?) How unsettling, that it can happen to any one at any time.

tax day, 2015 — a brief reflection

Despite being a legal adult, I’m still dependent on my family for taking care of the taxes — the same way I can be dependent on my family’s medical insurance until age 26 (thanks Obama!).

It’s still socially acceptable as a third-year university student to be dependent on parents or family members for financial support (especially when you’ve entered university straight out of high school). I am lucky. Many don’t have that extra layer of cushioning.

But cushioning or not — after graduation, I’d better get my crap in order.

Start now.

who will you put on that emergency contact form?

Family Name: _________________
First Name: ___________________
Phone Number: (___) ___-____

Here’s an interesting way to see who you are closest to. When you’re foaming at the mouth, who would you like to know about it first? Easy when you’re a child and can just write down your parents. But what happens when they aren’t around, and the closest friends you’ve made have all gone their separate ways?

Even more fascinating is who would put you on their form.

brown spots

Hannah wanted some bananas for banana bread, and I told her I had a couple to spare. They were a bit brown though.

The bananas weren’t rotten. They tasted fine earlier in the morning with my oatmeal, and they tasted fine earlier in the afternoon with my peanut butter sandwich, but they were brown and mushy enough for me to think twice about offering them to someone else. Good neighbors don’t give other good neighbors rotten crap, right? Would giving someone else a rotten banana suggest that I’m a rotten person myself? I show her the bananas.

“Oh no, that’s perfect! Thank you.”

Relief. (and now I get fresh banana bread)

venturing away from the food table

@ the faculty club in UCSD, where twice a quarter they host a guest speaker or panel to talk about interesting stuff:

I hid behind the food table instead of walking up to the speaker. That usually doesn’t happen, but this guy was one of those hot shots in the design community, and the people walking up to him were also hot shots in their fields.

Or at least that was the assumption I made. They were old and had white hair.

I wasn’t hungry, but the plate gave me a chance to hold something so I wouldn’t fidget, and the food gave me a distraction, so I wouldn’t have to focus on how I was chumping out and watching the world pass on by.

Up comes a man in a green collared shirt. About thirty years older, slightly balding. He was the only other guy eating the snacks on the table.

“Hey, go ask him a question.”

I tell him I didn’t know what to say, that he’s already got enough people kissing his ass and wanting something from him. I made all sorts of rationalizations, but really I was just scared and intimidated. Here are all these professionals lining up to speak to him. Who the hell am I? What would I be able to offer?

He tells me: “You know, he’s a human being, too. And he likes being recognized and knowing that his talk made a difference. Go talk to him and make a comment about something he said.”

He offered a handshake, then left for the parking lot. To this day I have no idea who he is.

~

~

Two slices of flatbread later, I lined up. I even wrote down a question in my notebook, for when I would forget in the ten meters separating the speaker, me, and every other person wanting to speak with the speaker in-between.

But I wouldn’t need to look at the notebook. A man in a suit ushered the speaker away.

 

…

Damn!