12/27/2026
At long last, my time at Purdue University comes to a close. With a mediocre 2.83 GPA, I’m not exactly what you would call an accomplished student. However, something tells me I’ve played my cards to the best of my abilities. While some might see me as a delusionally naive romantic, I have this crazy feeling that my brightest days are far, far ahead of me.
Purdue’s ECE program brutally tested my body and spirit—and while I learned immensely from the best professors Purdue had to offer, I would say my biggest takeaway from Purdue is not my academics, not by a long shot. But rather, it's an unwavering sense of self-belief and resilient scrappiness I simply did not have before. Like many young adults, I often stumbled and made a fool of myself as I learned to navigate and make sense of a rapidly changing self in a rapidly changing world. With every mistake I learned a lesson, but lessons were not exclusive to mistakes. I was able to find something to remember with every new experience I had. I promised myself to keep each and every one of those lessons close to my heart. Eventually, I was able to form an internal ball of wisdom, an internal “mass damper”—those giant balls of steel on the top of skyscrapers to prevent them from swaying during earthquakes—that I could tap into to guide myself during times of trouble. No matter how rough the situation, I know I can make it out safely. No matter how hard the question, I know I already have the answers somewhere within me, waiting to be uncovered.
As I navigated through my young adult life, I’ve come to develop an extremely romantic and cinematic view on life; I often like to make parallels with my life to some epic tale of adventure. I am the hero who ventures through unknown land, and my friends are characters who help the hero out during times of need. My coursework are giant fire-breathing monsters, my internal conflicts the big bad villains. Some of the hero’s adversaries are there not to be defeated, but to be survived. Sometimes, the hero has no choice but to take a beating and pray he makes it out alive. And when he eventually does (he always does), he makes sure that doesn’t happen again the second time around. Sometimes the hero doesn’t know what to do and cries quietly alone. But always, the hero only looks forward and rarely back, for he knows in his heart that the dots will somehow all connect at the end, even if it doesn’t seem so at the moment.
Cheesy, but I see it as a natural byproduct of spending my teenage years idolizing superheroes. If anything, I’m actually really glad that life has yet to knock my painfully naive worldview out of me. Way too often do I see jaded classmates who clearly have lost their love for engineering and are simply waiting for their diploma. Running the gauntlet that is Purdue ECE has proven to me my love for electronics. I’ve realized my field of study is truly what I want to pursue as both my work and life until the day I die. While various parts of my personality and lifestyle has come and gone in ebbs and flows, my love for engineering has always remained true, like a loyal dog by my side. And as with any great relationship, my love for it has only grown stronger and stronger over time. Even during times of uncertainty, I know my love for engineering won’t go anywhere, and it’s an amazingly comforting feeling knowing that a part of yourself will never leave you no matter what.
I now realize my greatest asset is nothing of technical nature; I would say my technical prowess is mediocre at best. However, I’m willing to bet my sheer unbridled passion and undying love for what I do comes second to none. And I’ve yet to see a textbook that teaches how to love.
I remember how I used to be as a teenager—scared, spineless, and stupid. Only one commonality remains between him and myself now: his love for electronics. I cannot be any prouder of my younger self for holding onto his passion and never letting go. If I could somehow see him again, the first thing I would do is give him a giant bear hug and hold him tight: “You wouldn’t even imagine…”
Life starts now.
