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| At most colleges and universities in America, students are required to complete a prescribed set of courses which are expected to provide a solid foundation for specialized study and training within a particular field of interest. This core curriculum is officially known as the General Institute Requirements - or GIRs, for short - at MIT. The GIRs are divided into two major categories. The first is the Science, Mathematics, and Engineering (SME) requirement, in which introductory subjects in calculus, physics, chemistry, and biology are required, while additional subjects given from a range of electives in science and technology are also mandatory. The second is the Humanities, Arts, and Social Sciences (HASS) requirement, in which a minimum number of introductory and advanced subjects must be completed from a collection of classes ranging from visual and performing arts to literary, historical, and social studies.
In the 8+ years since I first arrived on the scene as a clueless freshman, some changes (such as the addition of communication-intensive courses within the humanities and one's specific major) have been made to the GIRs, but for the most part, MIT's core curriculum has maintained a near decade-long status quo. However, it appears that a more substantial facelift could be given to the GIRs, based on the recommendations of the MIT Task Force on the Undergraduate Educational Commons. In their 158-page report released last month, the committee proposed to strictly uphold the completion of some core courses within the SME and HASS requirement. However, the remaining previously required courses are either being eliminated or re-introduced within a broader, yet still somewhat specialized field of study, such as physical sciences, life sciences, humanities, and the arts. An additional component being proposed is the inclusion of "project-based first-year experiences," which consist of subjects in engineering and science that involve design or creation.
While much of the committee's recommendations are both reasonable and necessary, I believe that further changes to the GIRs need to be made so that students can receive an undergraduate education that is more creative, yet still fundamentally sound. Two central ideas come to mind: 1) replacing the GIRs as a separate and comprehensive entity in favor of integrating essential GIR courses within the framework of a specific major, and 2) providing GIR "electives" that promote exposure to non-traditional career paths. A primary concern with MIT's undergraduate curriculum is that it's overall rigid framework limits the mobility of students to pursue multiple academic interests. This mobility is both beneficial and important in situations where students are: 1) undecided on a major and would need to take an introductory course in different fields in order to narrow down one's particular interest, 2) pursuing a dual degree, 3) studying abroad or doing a Co-Op, or 4) committed a specific major only to realize later on that a different path is desired.
It would seem worthwhile to eliminate the SME and HASS requirements as stand-alone GIR components and instead include the essential SME and HASS courses within the overall curriculum of a particular major. For example, if one freshman was interested in pursuing an electrical engineering degree (Course 6-1), the core first-year courses might include 8.01 (Physics I), 8.02 (Physics II), 18.01 (Single-Variable Calculus), 18.02 (Multi-Variable Calculus), and 18.03 (Differential Equations). However, if another freshman was interested in pursuing a biology degree (Course 7), the core first-year classes might include 7.012 (Introductory Biology), 5.111 (Principles of Chemical Science), and 8.01.
This integrated-GIR approach is attractive for several reasons. Rather than being forced to take irrelevant and unnecessary courses, students would take the introductory courses needed to continue on towards a specific degree path. One could thus expect that the quality of work from students would be at somewhat higher level due to an educational appreciation that is beyond a mere "get it over with" perspective. In addition, having integrated GIRs would streamline the first-year coursework, which would provide freshmen with the flexibility to either take the necessary prerequisite courses for multiple major paths or to get ahead in a specific major path. This means that freshmen who are undecided would not be penalized for exploring different degree options, while freshmen committed to a particular degree path would be able to take upper-level elective courses to gain additional breadth and depth in that path in preparation for the next phase of their educational experience, whether it be in industry, academia, or elsewhere.
Another concern with MIT's undergraduate curriculum is that the often-intense workload discourages students from exploring and pursuing educational options that deviate far from a traditional post-graduate career path. One of the many hallmarks of an MIT education is that, in addition to possessing an impressive skill set, students learn how to think under pressure, both independently and collaboratively. While this may seem utterly trivial - and I mean no disrespect to other colleges and universities - I can't help but wonder how the global landscape might change if a significant percentage of every MIT graduating class was devoted to developing a new product, service, or program in the form of a start-up company, a non-profit organization, or perhaps even a think-tank.
An initial attempt can be made to address this issue by incorporating an out-of-class GIR requirement that can be satisfied by the following options: 1) competing in a MIT-based start-up competition (i.e. 50K, Soldier Design, or Ideas), 2) developing an individual or group service project through the Public Service Center, 3) doing undergraduate lab research through the UROP program, or 4) studying abroad (i.e. Oxford or Cambridge). This requirement would be in lieu of previous GIR requirements, such as the Institute Lab or the HASS Concentration. The out-of-class GIR requirement would expose students to educational opportunities that transcend the usual regimen of problem sets and exams, and it would be especially useful to students interested in developing an idea but unable to invest time and resources into a project that might not necessarily be in line with their major degree requirements. The MIT Corporation, along with its faculty and staff, have worked admirably to ensure that an education of the highest quality is made available to each incoming class of students. While much of the undergraduate curriculum is fundamentally sound, certain changes need to be made, most notably in regards to the GIRs. The two ideas - integrated GIRs and out-of-class GIRs - presented here are not meant to serve as comprehensive solutions, nor is the implemention of these ideas trivial, by any means. However, a concerted effort in this direction can one day provide MIT students with the flexibility to pursue different career options, the means to delve deeper within a specific degree path, and an awareness of their ability - and with that, perhaps a selfless resolve - to change more than just the world around them. | | |
| With the clock approaching 7:30pm EDT, a collective roar could be heard in Detroit as Comerica Park and a nationally televised audience witnessed something that hadn't happened since I was in diapers - now that's when you know it's been a long time awaiting - the Detroit Tigers winning a playoff series, let alone making it to the post-season. They took yet another step in their march towards an improbable World Series championship by pillaging the Evil Empire (i.e. the New York Yankees) 8-3 as they won their divisional series, 3 games to 1. As a long-suffering Tigers fan - I live in Toledo, which has the AAA minor-league team for Detroit - it was immensely gratifying to watch mass pandemonium in Detroit that, for once, didn't involve overturned cars or riots in the streets. Now granted, the city still might go down in flames at some point during the postseason - win or lose - but at least for one day, Detroit can revel harmlessly in the fact that their Tigers are still on the prowl, while Georgie and his $200 million dollar band of overpaid henchmen are headed back to Gotham without a championship for a 6th consecutive season.
That the Tigers won this game was significant for a number of reasons. First and foremost, it represented a near-revolutionary paradigm shift in regards to the level of play and the attitude of this team. Perhaps it was manager Jim Leyland and his staff, but starting from Day 1, this team took that approach that it was not going to accept losing, and that they would do whatever was necessary to become a competitive team. However, Leyland himself was to quick to admit that this team exceeded his expectations. Remember, this was a team that had lost an American League-record 119 games in 2003, a short 3 seasons ago. I certainly remember those horrid times, as I had the privilege (or misfortune, depending on how you want to look at it) of watching them in person at Fenway Park when the Tigers came into town to face the Red Sox. Even with my Master's Degree thesis due in 3 days, I made the trek over to Fenway Park the night before the first game of the series and slept on concrete sidewalk in hopes of snagging a pair of Green Monster seats the next morning. I was rewarded for my due diligence with a pair of seats in the 2nd row of the Green Monster that evening. Though I was ready to vocalize my support for my team on any good plays made at the plate or in the field, those moments were few and far between as the Red Sox pounded them 15-2. To add insult to injury, I most likely made it on the 11pm edition of Sportscenter that night for failing to catch a Manny Ramirez homer that came straight at me.
The losing pitcher in that game was a rookie pitcher whom I had never heard of. But that changed quickly as the losses piled on, and by season's end, he had accumulated 19 losses (compared to a mere 6 wins). And the name of the pitcher? It was none other than Jeremy Bonderman. In that game, he was all over the place with his location, and because he was repeatedly behind in the count, Red Sox batters could let loose and tee off on his then-predictable pitches, as evidenced by the score. In the game against the Yankees, the Tigers sent one "Jeremy Bonderman" to the mound, but he wasn't the same pitcher that I saw at Fenway. This pitcher was focused, poised, and had good command of his pitches (he was perfect through 5 innings), and as he mowed down batter after batter in New York's vaunted lineup, you could sense his confidence rising to unseen heights. When Leyland pulled him with one out in the 9th, he walked towards the dugout to a spirited standing ovation from the 44,000+ appreciative fans in Comerica. This was the most important game of his life, a clutch post-season performance that could transform Bonderman into an established All-Star in the years to come. Keep in mind, he's only 23 years old and well over a year away from getting a Hertz rental car by himself.
But today's game was meaningful for this most important reason - it was now fun again to be playing (and watching) baseball in the Motor City. You could see it in the players' faces all season long, and the stands had a spine-tingling buzz in October that was normally reserved for the late spring when the Pistons or Red Wings would make their traditional playoff push. While I certainly hope and pray that the Tigers pull off the near-unthinkable and celebrate a World Series title in Detroit this fall, regardless of where they end up, I'll be proud of how they carried themselves, both on and off the field. And speaking of celebrations, you know your team must be doing well when one of the players is wearing this:
It's highly doubtful that Oakley will design a new product line of sunglasses based on Jason Grilli's post-game eyewear, but honestly, I could care less. I'll take substance over style any day. | | |
| It's almost a given that
everyone likes holidays. The kids get a day off from school,
while adults get to be away from the office and attend to other
matters. While there are certain holidays that will always be of
utmost meaning to me, such as Christmas and Easter, one of my personal
favorites is Patriot's Day, also known as Marathon Monday. I
think I enjoy this holiday even more than my birthday, and that becomes evident once you get to be my age.
For the past three years, I've
had the good fortune of qualifying for the Boston Marathon, but this
year, it just wasn't meant to be. Injuries and other commitments
kept me from putting in the training needed to re-qualify. So I
had to settle for running a 5-mile race in the morning, after which I made my
way to Kenmore Square to secure a good viewing location for cheering on my BAA
teammates. I even put my appalling art skills on display by
making a pseudo-motivational poster for the guys.
As I waited for the first
runners to come by, it dawned on me that today was the first time that
I had ever been to a marathon as a spectator. I had been to 8
previous marathons, each time as a runner, so it felt a bit awkward
being on the other side of the barricades. The weather was
a bit chilly early on, with overcast skies, light winds, and
temperatures in the mid-50's. Perfect weather for marathoners
(for once), but not-so-hot weather for beer drinkers and BBQ grillers,
no pun intended.
As usual, the Kenyans took top
honors in the overall men's and women's races, but it was a pleasant
surprise to see Americans take 3rd, 4th, and 5th in the men's
race. US distance running has improved significantly over the
past couple of years, and it'll only be a matter of time before an
American wins Boston, Chicago, or one of the other major marathons and
hopefully usher in a new era of American dominance not seen since the days of
Bill Rodgers and Alberto Salazar in the late 70's and early 80's.
The
performance of the elites
was just one of many storylines headlining this year's Boston.
For myself
personally, I mostly cared about my teammates having a strong
showing. While the weather seemed ideal for good race times, most
of my teammates unfortunately had sub-par finishing times. Even
as I tried to rally my teammates in spirited fashion, my heart ached a
bit, because I knew that they were disappointed and in a whole lot
of pain as they struggled to the finish. I had been in that
lonely
position before, so to some extent, I could feel their
frustration.
But even though I mainly went
to Kenmore Square to watch my teammates run, my attention quickly
shifted to the other runners, those whose names I didn't know and whose
faces I most likely would never see ever again. While these
runners would not win any trophies or prize money on this day, it was
perfectly okay, because for many, they weren't running for personal
glory or accolades. Rather, they were running in honor of or in
memory of someone else. They were running for loved ones who were
battling or had succumbed to cancer or other life-threatening
diseases. They were running to raise awareness and funds for
worthy causes and initiatives. They were running to instill hope
in others that things previously thought to be impossible were in fact
going to be accomplished 26.2 miles later on this glorious day.
As I
saw these runners
courageously battle through the final mile of this race, I couldn't
help but cheer and encourage these runners with reckless abandon.
I gave high-fives to those running along the barricades. I called
out runners who were walking and challenged them to finish strong on
this last mile. I lost my voice yelling out whatever snippets of
wit, humor, and
motivational gimmicks that I could muster off the top of my head.
Some laughed, while others gave me a thumbs-up. Still
others ignored me and ran or walked straight ahead. But there
were some who had previously walked who then gathered the strength and
determination to start running again. And they were rewarded with
a hearty roar of approval from the masses on Commonwealth Avenue.
Patriot's
Day is a special day,
first and foremost because we celebrate and remember those who laid
down their lives for our country's independence. But we also
celebrate the
Boston Marathon and the opportunities that it provides for those to put
their passion and commitment to the ultimate test, be it to win the
whole damn thing, to set a personal best, to raise money for charity,
or to just do it for fun. Somebody once told me that the
marathon is probably the only event where anyone can be a champion by
race's end. That's the beauty of the marathon. That's the
beauty of Boston.
| | |
| By now, I'm sure most of you have
watched or heard of the show 'ER'. While I rarely watch the show
much anymore, I used to watch it faithfully back in the day when George
Clooney, Noah Wyle, and Anthony Edwards were playing leading roles.
In all my years of watching the show, there was one episode that stood
out amongst the others - the episode where Edwards' character, Dr.
Greene, spends his last few days with his family before passing away.
As the
episode approached its
final minutes on the air, it flashed back to highlights of Dr. Greene's
life, with a guitar and Israel Kamakawiwo'ole singing a
grainy yet soothing arrangement combining elements of "Somewhere Over the
Rainbow" with a touch of "It's a Wonderful World." I'll admit that I was a
sap and shed a tear or two during the episode. Simply put, it was
just too painful for me to see him suffer as he fought to stay alive
during those last few days. When it's a struggle just to breathe
and walk about, it certainly puts all of our other problems into
perspective, doesn't it?
This past weekend has been a
humbling reminder of how, even when the crap hits the proverbial fan, you keep on
doing what you love without complaints or discouragement, because your best, even if it's not perfect, can be good enough to make a
meaningful contribution in more ways than you might ever know, and there's no guarantee that you'll wake to face another day.
This past weekend presented a series of opportunities to improve my
academics, my community service involvement, and my marathon
training. On Saturday, I had a 5-mile road race and a final round
interview for an international development scholarship, which would give me
$5,000 to do medical field work in Rwanda for six weeks this
summer. On Sunday was Stu's 30K race, an important tune-up for
Boston, and today was my biochem exam.
To make a long story short, I
tweaked my hamstring during warmups for the 5M, which was enough to
make me sit out both the 5M and the 30K race. I had a good
interview only to find out from an apologetic committee member that I
had just missed the cut for the award, and of course, the 12
hours of research and preparation for that interview could have gone
to studying for the exam, which wasn't quite to my liking as well. I'll
be honest that I was mildly upset and distraught all weekend, though
I've tried my best not to show it around out in public. With
all of this going on, plus the fact that my PhD advisor might leave in
September for another job, my life has been somewhat in disarray. To not
meet expectations and to live with much uncertainty is hardly a
pleasant feeling.
However, all of these "critical"
problems and hardships quickly paled in comparison upon hearing that
one of my BAA teammates had just passed away after a long battle with
cancer. Dan Peterson, a 55-year old man from Beverly, had stage
IV melanoma which resulted in his right arm being amputated, yet he
still ran the Boston Marathon for the 24th consecutive time last year
while enduring the effects of experimental treatment. I had the
privilege of sitting next to him on the bus ride to Hopkinton for the
2004 race. I remember being immensely nervous before that
race, because I was sponsored that year by Saucony (along with Dan) for personal contributions to the Boston running community and to society, I was raising funds for Children's Hospital, and I was running in
Anderson's memory that year. Combined with 85+ degree temperatures and a slew of friends waiting for me in Kenmore Square, I was on
the verge of a nervous breakdown.
I remember telling Dan about my overwhelming burden to succeed and to not disappoint all those who
would be there to support me. With a big grin on his face, he told me to
simply do my best, because the effort and the way in which you carry yourself would be more meaningful than a result taken out of
context. He also said to take in the full experience and enjoy
it, because you never know when it's all going to come to an end. These
were the words of a man who would run the next-to-last Boston of his
life that day.
His words of encouragement were
not empty, not in the least. In his final Boston last year, he had the
support of a marathon entourage to protect him and help him along as he
struggled to make his way through the six towns leading into
Boston. He would courageously finish that race in 5:51, more than
double his best of time of 2:42 set over 20 years ago. Despite
the end result, he ran the race to the absolute best that his
cancer-torn body would let him. In true "Dan Peterson" fashion,
he and his marathon group stopped on Boylston Street, a mere few hundred
yards from the finish, and tried to absorb the experience.
[Taken from the Boston Globe
article] "We learned that life is not about the finish line; it's about
the journey," Peterson recalled, his voice a whisper. "We took a
picture, shed a few tears, and hugged. Then we looked across the
line and said, 'Let's go.' I think it touched every guy there."
Rest in Peace - Dan Peterson, 1950-2006. | | |
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