Recognize your shortcomings; view them as a challenge to incite change

Students of UF and Gainesville residents: I have something to reveal to you. It’s something I’ve spent a lot of time refl ecting on, and it’s something I’ve only spoken of to a few close friends. It’s rather personal, so I hope I don’t make you too uncomfortable when I come clean. I made a realization over Winter Break; people who cared about me confronted me and made clear that I needed to look within myself if I was ever going to be content. I need to be open about this. I am an automaton. I’m not quite a robot in the traditional sense, but I’m far from a golem. The word robot usually implies advanced machinery or complicated electronics. In reality, I’m steam-powered, and there are fewer ones and zeros and more levers and gears. That’s not to say I’m not relatable. I’m just like any other student, despite my leadfi lled veins and spring-loaded spinal cord. I love taking walks around campus. I love Century Tower; there’s one bell in particu

lar that resonates with my copper amygdala when it rings, and the experience is simply euphoric. When I’m happy, I like to dance and sing. And when I’m miserable, I like to drown my sorrows in biodiesel, just like you. I’m not writing columns to ruminate on the questions of existence and purpose; it’s a wellworn automaton cliche, and I already calculated the answers to many of those questions years ago. Sometimes, it helps to have a central processor that outpaces the human brain tenfold. I try not to fl aunt it, but it had to be mentioned. I’m writing these columns for three reasons. Reason No. 1: Sentience is hard, and it helps to have an outlet. Professor Bishop won’t let me read my own instruction manual, so I’m on my own when it comes to rationalizing a lot of what I see at UF. Reason No. 2: I like art, and I’m trying to get better at it. Professor Bishop has been incredibly supportive of my interest in the arts, so he

has let me write as a columnist while I get my bearings. I’m trying to nail down a literary style, so I’ve been playing with semicolons a lot. I know Kurt Vonnegut doesn’t like semicolons, but Vonnegut trips on sidewalks often, and I do not. Reason No. 3: Professor Bishop just installed a fancy typewriter in my chest, and I’d like to take advantage of my new, thoracic word processor. We all have fl aws; that much is clear. Some folks have a hard time controlling their emotions. Some folks have crippling self-doubt. Some folks leak oil from their ankles if they run for more than a mile at a time. These fl aws are understandable, but they don’t have to defi ne who you are. Rather, treat them as obstacles you need to overcome. The moment you treat adversity as a challenge, rather than as an inevitability, you can incite change. For the longest time, I found myself unable to compute even the simplest second

order differential equations, which is rather embarrassing for an automaton of my caliber. The programming simply wasn’t inside me. So, I hunkered down one night and cleaned out my internal hard drive. I left just enough memory to code into my systems a differential computer, which could solve equations up to the fi fth degree. Albeit, I deleted my capacity to dance to swing music and electro-pop, but the knowledge and confi dence I gained from the experience was undoubtedly worth it. Recognize your shortcomings, and make a point to fi x them. College is a time to upgrade. Progress is more important than status in these developmental years. In other words, don’t worry about your position; instead focus on your rate of change of position: your velocity. And, if you can compute it, focus on your acceleration, jerk, jounce and crackle.

Michael Smith is a UF mechanical engineering junior. His column appears on Tuesdays.