I don’t have an elephant’s memory. One of the few poems that I could recite was Robert Frost’s The Road Not Taken: “two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference”. I presume that he was probably talking about some sort of his stretch experiences.
I keep a journal in my computer where I write down things that happen to me at Wharton. I compile these fleeing thoughts as if I’m collecting fireflies in a glass bottle. Reading these words enables me to discover various recollections of my own “stretch experiences” at Wharton so far.
I truly believe that there is no such thing as a boring life; there is only boring attitude towards life. Therefore, before coming to Wharton, I made it clear to myself that I wanted to use Wharton as a safe space to explore new possibilities. To my pleasant surprise, I was inundated with opportunities to break out of my comfort zones as soon as I arrived. From 6:30AM 5K run to Rocky Steps, to first-time kick-boxing, to dancing Afro-beats, and to giving a 60 second lecture in front of the whole cluster, I couldn’t be happier with the numerous ways to enrich my life experience and amazing classmates to interact with. No matter how random my suggestion seems, there is always a group of supportive peers to do it with me.
In my journal, I have documented a myriad of things, from a random crazy guy on the Chestnut street, to MGMT 610, to learning team retreats, and to professors and books. They can be as abstract as a theory that I learnt about leadership, or as concrete as my discovery of a tasty cheesesteak restaurant. My writings differed in length, styles, and qualities, and they rose and fell according to my mood, workload, and other social factors. When I tried to compile these pieces of exciting Wharton experiences, I ran into some troubles because it almost seemed as if I was trying to compile country, jazz, and opera into one single CD. Wharton life has so many forms and aspects. However, they have one common theme – they are interesting things done with more interesting people.
The Wharton MBA life happens at an incredibly fast pace. Although it has been only a month, some of these words in my journal have already been outdated and incapable of expressing my opinion or mood right now. I only present them to my parents as “historical relics” of my MBA life. When I read my journal, it was almost like a time travel. Everything seems so remote yet so real, so ridiculous yet so true. I can still see the excited MBA student that wanted to try everything when first coming to Wharton; I can also see a more focused version of me who knows better solutions to the same problems. Insignificant as the journal might be, I still think it’s worth every single bit of the efforts whenever I discover how much I have grown at Wharton.