Rohit Sarathy

As every computer science major knows, data structures is a very integral class in their curriculum. As a result, data structures can be considered the first major test if one wants to label themselves as a proficient programmer or computer scientist.

This semester, we would be working in C++, which was a considerable step up from Java. In preparation for the programming portions of the class, I took to Project Euler, a programming problem solving site that allowed me to hone my Java and object oriented programming skills.

Despite my prep, however, the first machine problem proved to be a patch of tricky footing for everyone. We were all faced with the novel task of writing our own Makefile and slogging through the syntax of C++ on our lonesome. Anticipating a long assignment, my friends and I convened together in an attempt to make some headway on learning our new second language. Within half an hour, we all found ourself walking into a brick wall editing our own Makefile.

We reached a crossroads of sorts, deciding that it would be unproductive to simply throw more time at the problem at hand. I voted to continue working on our machine problem at Siebel Center, where we could rely on the help of our course staff. My friends decided to stay back in hopes of slogging through and making some purchase on this tricky problem.

Riding the bus into the receding Urbana sun, I got off and ascended the few steps into the computer science building. I sat down at one of the basement’s resident EWS machines and began to work. Next to me was one of my classmates who was working on the same problem. We sat together and refined our individual Makefiles in hopes of allowing our program to fully compile. When I thought I was absolutely stuck, I reached out to the current TA, who walked me through the idea of Makefiles and also scanned my code for bugs. After a quick review, I compiled my code again: ./mp1 . The console showed no warnings, and using the terminal diff commands confirmed that my code was correct.

Just to be sure, I ran my final source code against the staff’s test suite, Monad. Five green “passed” markers greeted me, and I heaved a great sigh of relief. After nearly three hours of frustrating debugging and refining, I had solved my first true Machine Problem. I silently reminded myself that the programming problems would only get harder from here on out, but resolved to reviewing my current code for any other errors.

My programming neighbor wasn’t having the same luck, however. As he tried to understand the concept of flipping the PNG 180 degrees, the TA would constantly shoot him down, berating him with a sharp “为什么你不懂这个? 这是很容易。” (Why don’t you understand this? It’s really easy.) After the TA moved on to help another student in the office hours queue, I slid my chair over and began to walk my classmate through the steps that I had taken not so long ago.

“So I see that you’ve placed the target files on your desktop. Here, let’s put them into a new directory. Type in ‘mkdir cs225’ into the terminal, right over here, and press Enter…”

Prior to my first semester of school, many of my close friends and family said that university would be some of the best years of my life, full of substance, variance, and enjoyment.

Two weeks into school, I wasn’t so sure about that adage. I hadn’t done so much as to set a foot outside my dormitory unless necessary, holing myself in my room with coursework.

I would say it was by chance that I found my social niche. Simply sitting next to different people in classes introduced me to a new study group, and a new crew of weekend explorers. I began to spend more time outside my dormitory, and sure enough, I found that more often than not that I would be outside my room.

However, going to school in Urbana-Champaign has, to an extent, pigeonholed me in a vacuous bubble. Despite finding my group of friends, I feel that something is still missing. When a few friends brought up the notion of roadtripping to Chicago and Michigan over the weekend, I really couldn’t refuse. After all, maybe I would finally chance upon something that I could hold on to and develop into a fully-fledged idea. It was certainly refreshing to leave Urbana-Champaign for the first time in two and half months. I was able to finally get a taste of Chicago life, and was also able to visit Indiana and Michigan as well.

Perhaps something that really remained with me from our adventures up North was our visit with Jonathan, my friend’s brother. I was very excited to meet Jonathan after reading (sorry, viewing) his laundry list of completed projects. Jonathan was a personable and motivated individual and was very excited about his work.

Though 1900 miles away from San Jose, Jonathan made me and my friends feel at home. He invested his time to get to know us better, asking us about how we felt about our classes and social life at school. He implicitly emphasized the importance of passion and motivation, showing us the multitude of documentaries that he had tirelessly filmed and edited, as well as his brainchild and budding social project “FoodCircles”. As he flitted excitedly around his laptop and recording gear, he detailed the development cycle and conception of each individual project. The point of passion really began hit home for me. “Rohit, is computer science what you really want to do?” he asked.

I don’t know. I guess it’s too early to tell, but regardless, I went with my instinct and responded resoundingly with a “Yes, Jonathan. I really think so.” I’ve definitely made decisions and uttered outlandish comments out of impulse, but I know that my answer was correct, because I can’t imagine pursuing anything else for the remainder of my life.

First off, it’s been a while. I’ll try to write more often from now on.

It’s been two months since I set foot into my first college classes. I was, and still am, very excited to learn more about the vast field of computer science. To be honest, however, I couldn’t help feeling a few chills down my spine when my instructors repeatedly drove home that machine problems would constitute a sizable portion of the introductory course, calling them the meat and cheese of the class. I wasn’t very good at programming, and although I certainly wanted to become a better programmer, I secretly hoped that computer science couldn’t merely be trivialized to solving machine problems day in and day out.

When I scrolled through the major’s curriculum, It made me happy that computer science was so much more than programming. It warmed me inside that I chose a major that would transform me into a well-rounded, versatile engineer. I came to UIUC to gain a deeper and more profound understanding of how we manage data and allocate computing resources in an efficient manner. I left a cozy home 1,872 miles away to study computer science, not programming. And although I’m spending most of my first year grinding out machine problems with classmates, I look forward to some of the theoretical classes that I’ll take in the future. Writing code is fun and enjoyable, but learning why the aforementioned code works the way it does enhances the experience tenfold. I feel that the best of computer science is still yet to come.

Engineering excites me. After hours and days being forced to evaluate theoretical expressions that only held up in precise utopian states, it felt nice to finally be faced with problems that had practical applications and real results.

When I earned the presidency of my school’s Junior Engineering Technical Society, I couldn’t have been more elated. It was my goal to promote engineering schoolwide. Following our TSA’s TEAMS regionals runner-up finish, we were invited to attend the national Technology Student Association conference in Washington DC. As I read the results of the regional, I couldn’t help but think that this would be the pinnacle of achievement for our club. We were going to represent our school on a national stage.

Our team prepared well into summer nights to ensure a quality performance at our debut conference. We threw ideas onto powerpoints and documents, proofread and revised, argued and discussed. After hours of careful preparation, we were ready.

I for one felt greatly privileged to be on the 6am flight to Washington DC. After all the paperwork and cooperation necessitated with Lynbrook, we were all very lucky to have the opportunity to partake in the conference.

The conference center was a bustling hub of activity, with more than 7,000 participants in attendance. Many of them wore numerous ribbons on their name, such as “first time competitor”, “chapter president”, and “future engineer” providing a distinct sense of flair for each individual. Later in the night, the welcome ceremony fireworks made us all feel even more special and important. It seemed as if the conference would host a welcome mecca of enthusiastic engineers.

The conference’s opening ceremonial fireworks.

However, my glorified image of this engineering conference would take a drastic turn the very next day. Our team grouped up together, anticipating our first engineering challenge. The proctor summoned all the team captains and explained the challenge to us.

As he explained the task, I didn’t seem to be getting more optimistic. At the very least, the challenge seemed to be a joke after all the trouble we had been through just to partake in the conference and its festivities.

I say this with unwavering sincerity – we were supposed to balance a full 2-liter water bottle using a piece of paper, essentially engineering a load-bearing structure with a simple sheet of A4 paper. I was aghast. We had traveled nearly 2800 miles, completed a veritable mound of paper work, and spent a whole thousand dollars just to manipulate a simple sheet of paper?! I concealed my heavy disdain and carefully relayed the instructions to my teammates.

Unfortunately, as the challenge advanced, our team struggled with the task, and failed to create a piece of paper that would bear the weight of the full bottle. If it was any consolation, I could safely attest that our professional-grade writeup was top notch.

The oral competition wasn’t much better. Few of my teammates felt the need to understand the material we had prepared for the presentation on alleviating congestion, and it showed. The judges assaulted us with questions which we answered in shaky voices. Needless to say, I was disappointed.

During the awards ceremony, I wasn’t expecting anything. To my surprise, though, we were called up for our good performance on the writing section. We jovially jogged up to the stage and awaited the announcement of the awards. While we lined up, each team member received small “consolation” pins. As it turned out, we had placed 6th in the country for our collaborative research paper that we wrote on tracking.

The interior of the Gaylord Convention Center, the venue of the 2014 TSA National Conference.

Aside from the small recognition our team earned, I couldn’t take much away from the conference. Or maybe it was just that we had been promoting engineering incorrectly. I began to think harder, and came to the conclusion that we weren’t using the correct approach to bring engineering to fellow students. Quite aptly, a quote from the popular comedy show “The Office” came to my mind. In the episode “Safety Training”, Regional Manager Michael Scott remarks, “You don’t go to the museum and get handed a pamphlet on electricity. You put your hands on metal ball, your hair sticks up… and you learn science.”

Attending to the conference and participating in a trivial challenge felt like being handed the metaphorical pamphlet on engineering. It was no different from an FBLA or DECA business conference, neither of which successfully further true business concepts. The TSA national conference failed to seed profound engineering interests in fresh new minds. In the future, I believe that prospective engineering students should be placed in active environments containing tangible problems and challenges for them to solve. Put engineers next to an incomplete freeway interchange, and have them create actual design specifications for the onramps and exit lanes. Take students to a new server farm, and have them study the different file transfer protocols and infrastructure that allows a company to store its data. Plan a field trip to the local university laboratory, and allow participants to manage the manufacturing process – the machines, instruments, and materials – of a new medical device. Through these hands-on, close-up brushes with various scenarios, people will immerse themselves in the thrill of creation and the euphoria of success that comes with engineering.

A passive approach falls short to enlighten and ensnare new minds into the world of engineering. Using active scenarios, we can make a difference and fill the growing demand for new, hungry engineers.