Last weekend, I participated in my very first hackathon: HackPrinceton!

For those of you who don’t know, a hackathon is marathon computer programming event where lots of people come together to build all kinds of projects.

Every fall and spring, the Princeton Entrepreneurship Club hosts HackPrinceton, a 36-hour hackathon where students from across the nation come to work on software and hardware projects.

Here’s how the 36 hours of HackPrinceton played out for me:

Friday, 9 p.m.: The hackathon begins. I arrive at the Friend Center with no specific plan or project in mind, but I definitely want to make something. I’m excited to hear some tech talks, get free swag and snacks, and play with the hardware from the sponsors. I end up taking lots of gummies and a Surface Book from the Microsoft table and spend the night doodling.

Saturday, 8:30 a.m.: I wake up with a plan of action.

I’ve spent the past week worrying, disappointed with the U.S. Presidential election results.  I wanted to find a positive way to respond. I’ve have asked friends, teachers, adults, mentors: What good can come out of this? How will we move forward? What can I do?

Listen, they say. Talk to everyone, not just people like you. Be vigilant, be kind. Reach out and learn empathy.

Taking their advice to heart, I resolve to design an app that will facilitate honest, one-on-one, personal discussions about social and political issues. I’ll call it “Converse,” for people to converse about converse views. Hurrah!

10:30 a.m.: I eat brunch at my eating club, Terrace, and download trial versions of Sketch and Framer.js onto my computer. I’ve been itching to try out these two prototyping tools ever since I first heard about them this summer. This is the perfect time to experiment with them. When I open the applications on my computer, however, I realize that’s easier said than done.

Noon: Fumbling my way around Sketch. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I'm making progress, slowly but surely.

3:30 p.m.: Break for a bike ride with a friend!

4:30 p.m.: Return to working in Sketch in earnest.

6:30 p.m.: Break for a walk with a friend, then dinner.

10 p.m.: Finished creating the UI in Sketch, I move to Framer to animate them. Since I have no idea how to use Framer and want to be done with this project, I write some of the hack-iest code I’ve ever written.

Sunday, 12:30 a.m.: Submit my project and go to sleep, yay!                                        

9AM: The hackathon ends, and it's time to demo my project at the hackathon’s Science Fair. I have a few great conversations about technology’s responsibility to resolve social problems, and I also get to see the cool projects that other participants have made.

In conclusion, I really enjoyed my hackathon experience! I loved experimenting with two new tools, learning about the design process, and building something of my own! It was a productive – a surprisingly cathartic – end to a tumultuous week.

Thanks, HackPrinceton!

See all the HackPrinceton projects here, if you'd like :)

A library seems like such a mundane thing. It’s a place where books are kept and people go to study. It’s probably a simple thing that no one thinks about when choosing a college. However, until you get to college, you don’t realize just how much time you will actually spend in the library. It becomes such an important aspect of your college experience, that I would argue a visit to the library is a must on a college tour. Libraries give you a vibe for the school, and since every library is different (including all of ours on campus), you can get a feel for what works best for you.

Princeton currently has 10 libraries. Some, such as Firestone, Lewis or Marquand library, are more frequently visited than others, but each has its own flair. I find that when students are picking their library of choice, it depends a lot upon their mood and what they wish to get out of their study experience. My first year I studied in Firestone, our central library, because I liked the individual desks and the fact that it was closest to my dorm. However, towards the end of the year, I shied away from Firestone because it became too dark for my liking, and I had unhappy memories of studying for a difficult exam there. I tried out Marquand Library of Art and Archaeology once, but I didn’t like the giant windows because people walking by always distracted me. I also tried the Fine annex, home to the math department, but for some reason, it just didn’t feel right to me. Then I visited Lewis Science Library, which is now my current choice. This building, built by acclaimed architect Frank Gehry in 2008, is so interesting architecturally both inside and outside. There are super comfortable chairs inside; there is a "tree house," an elevated study space in which you can only trees; there is good lighting; and it is very close to my current dorm and favorite dining hall.

Some of my friends really enjoy the East Asian Library, located in Frist Campus Center, because it is conveniently located two stories above Frist’s café, which means when late meal rolls around, they can run downstairs to get some snacks and then get back to studying. Others have found the Architecture Library nice and quiet. Mudd Manuscript Library contains all of the pas senior theses and has really rare and exciting documents. There’s even a Mendel Music Library for those who like to study in the music building.

Essentially, there are so many types of libraries on campus, that you can find one that will best suit your needs. And what I have often found is that a library will work for one class, but when I’m studying for another, I need a location change. That’s why it’s nice to have the variation on campus.  

So I encourage all of you that when you’re on your college tour at Princeton, take a moment to peak into a library. I know that on our Orange Key tours, we make a point of emphasizing Firestone (the 2ndlargest open stack library, by the way!), but definitely check out some of the others when you come to visit.

Feel free to write if you have any questions about our libraries. In the mean time, I’ll be typing away in my favorite chair in Lewis, second floor right outside the tree house.

A few weeks ago, my Asian-American history course (AMS 370) took us on a field trip to New York City to spend the afternoon in Chinatown. One great thing about Princeton's location is our proximity to New York City and Philadelphia for class trips, and I got to benefit from one of these fully funded opportunities this weekend!

Our class met at 1 p.m. to first take a walking tour of Chinatown. It was my first time to Chinatown, and I really enjoyed seeing Columbus Park and the Tombs, as well as learning about Chinatown's historical ties with Little Italy.

We had time to explore the Museum of Chinese in America (MOCA). The museum is really modern and was showing a neat exposition on Chinese food and identity in America!

Of course, both the exhibit and the day made us crave some Chinese food. To end the afternoon, our professor took us all to the Oriental Garden, a Cantonese restaurant that has been highly ranked by both Michelin and Zagat restaurant review guides.

Overall, Asian-American history has been one of my favorite classes this semester, and this field trip was a really great opportunity to spend more time with my class and to learn more about the Asian-American experience in New York City!

Ahhhh, thesis season. At Princeton, it’s a time replete with all sorts of contradictions: the joy of academic discovery coupled with the pressure of an impending deadline; a desire to enjoy the wonderful weather, but with the spectre of an empty Word document looming large. For many a Princeton senior — it is the best of times, it is the worst of times.

These are uncommon sentiments for this time of year, given that Princeton’s thesis deadlines aren’t typically until April or May. As it turns out, however, my thesis is due half a year early, which means I’m in the thick of thesis season right now.

This predicament is of my own making, but the more I think about it, the gladder I am that I’ve opted for this unconventional timeline. I have the enormous privilege of being supervised by the moral philosopher Peter Singer, who happens to spend the spring in his native Australia — hence, the early deadline. But it’s a trade-off well worth a busier-than-normal fall.

If you haven’t heard Singer’s name before, you’ve almost certainly encountered his work. Ethical vegetarianism, the burgeoning effective altruism movement and the celebrated tome "Practical Ethics" – are all the result of his startlingly productive career in the academy. Few philosophers have so concrete an impact on the world, and in a field widely considered the province of armchair theorists, Singer’s work stands out in brilliant relief.

During the past few months, I’ve come to deeply appreciate this practical facet of philosophy. Lost in the stacks of Firestone Library, it’s sometimes easy to lose sight of academia’s purchase on the world. But Singer’s work reminds us that many of our most pressing challenges are philosophical at their heart.

In its current state, my thesis focuses on the intersection of animal ethics and effective altruism, unsurprisingly, two major areas of Professor Singer’s present research interests. Effective altruists are a group of people dedicated to doing philanthropy right; through charitable giving, they hope to address some of our world’s gravest inequities: global poverty, neglected tropical disease and the stunning lack of economic opportunity in many areas of the world. The movement is new, but quickly growing; already, thousands have signed up to give away 10 percent of their income to worthy causes, for the rest of their lives.

What’s exciting about effective altruism is its focus on evidence and measurability. Effective altruists take a calculated approach to deciding where they ought to give: They consider things like how much a particular intervention costs, what kind of benefits a philanthropic contribution will bring about and which people have the greatest need. Often, their conclusions fall out of complicated models that mathematically determine the best giving opportunities.

I’m convinced, though, that this calculus may overlook one of the world’s gravest causes of suffering: the horrors of modern factory farming, which subjects billions of animals each year to inhumane, painful treatment. In my thesis, I’m developing a model that allows meaningful comparisons between human and animal interests, thus allowing philanthropists to think coherently about how to weigh human suffering against that of animals.

I’ll be presenting this work next month at the Symposium on Effective Animal Advocacy, an academic conference hosted right here at Princeton. If you’re around, drop by!

To honor the Office of Sustainability’s 10th birthday this month, I thought I’d talk a little about sustainability at Princeton …

First, rewind to three years ago: When I was a pre-frosh visiting campus during Princeton Preview, one of the major things that struck me about campus–aside from the beautiful buildings, abundance of the color orange, and free food everywhere–was Princeton’s conscious effort to be “green.” And I wasn’t the only one to notice! Last year, a fellow student told me that she decided to go to Princeton in part because of how environmentally-friendly the campus seemed.

After coming to Princeton, I got involved in sustainability efforts as an Eco-Rep, whose mission is to promote sustainability in the residential community, and I was pleasantly surprised at how receptive and supportive the group was. With the relatively small campus, Princeton’s Campus Dining and Building Services are quite receptive to student input, and the Office of Sustainability is always willing to support students promoting sustainability.

Aside from student efforts, though, a huge collaboration between faculty, staff, and administration resulted in Princeton's official Sustainability Plan, which includes goals for reducing the University's greenhouse gas emissions, conserving resources, and engaging the University through research and education.

On the academic side, the University offers many courses every semester for students interested in learning about energy and the environment in a variety of disciplines–civil and environmental engineering, economics, geosciences, history, and even my home department, computer science! Last semester, I was enrolled in a seminar called “Apps for the Environment,” in which we developed our own Android applications that could help out the environment. Pretty neat, huh?

In more exciting news, though, the brand new Andlinger Center for Energy + The Environment opened earlier this year as a space for teaching and research. They’re doing all kinds of cool things relating to sustainable energy, but personally, I’m just excited to explore this beautiful space during the scavenger hunt for the Office of Sustainability’s birthday celebration in a few weeks!

To learn more about sustainability and related research at Princeton, visit the Office of Sustainability and Andlinger Center's websites.

Happy Birthday, Office of Sustainability, and Happy (belated) inauguration, Andlinger Center :)

In this (almost) last blog, a recap on my last days at Princeton!

My last class until who-knows-when was ENG 358: Children's Literature, a course where we studied books like "Alice in Wonderland," "Where the Wild Things Are," and the Harry Potter series. It was a good way to go.  

But still, at the end of lecture, standing up with my friends from those wooden lecture-seats in McCosh 50, chatting as we zipped up our bags, knowing it was the last time I would do so as a Princeton student was pretty bittersweet. After all, this has been a place of incredible friendships and growth ... 

...and a place of compelling academic rigor. 

A place of incredible artistic opportunity, like illustrating a grizzled elephant for Pulitzer Prize-winning author Paul Muldoon's spoken word group, Rogue Oliphant...

...and a place with awesome platforms to share my experiences (like writing for a certain admission blog for three years, perhaps?).

This school has been a home like no other. But like most school experiences, it ends!

Oh, but how Princeton ends.

Reunions and Commencement

I wish I could describe how my last few days of Princeton were all weighed with a sense of gravitas, of perfect goodbyes, sweet and full realizations of what we were leaving behind.

But really, they were a whirlwind of orange: dancing, cheering and saying "goodbye" at Princeton Reunions, where thousands of Princeton alums from all years flock back to campus for a few days of reliving the glory years with renewed spirit.

For me, Reunions were a crazy few days of running into people who, for the past year, had seemed to disappear from their usual haunts around campus. But then here they were again, sitting around you in the Quad Library, loudly complaining about finance or messing with the suit of armor, just as if no time had passed!

Reunions was dancing under the tents. And late into the night, it was jumping on a half-deflated bounce castle with a group of friends and losing each other, laughing, in the enveloping red folds. 

It was walking behind people with a secret happiness, admiring the the Class Jacket you designed for 2016.

It's was the sweaty craziness of P-Rade, when all the alums from class years parade down Elm Drive, which ends with the members of the Great Class of 2016 running onto Poe field. 

Then there is Baccalaureate and Class Day, where you listen to speakers extol the excitement of graduation. It's also where you play games with your friends. For example, whoever complains about the hot temperature in the Chapel first gets to be lovingly and viciously pinched by the others.

There also was getting proposed to by your best friend and the guy you love most in the world. (That gets its own section in a follow-up blog post!)

You attend award ceremonies and receptions with brownies and strawberries, and before you know it...

...you and your friends are passing around bobby pins, trying to pin these fancy hats to your hair.

Finally, you are lining up with the other fancy hats, bobbing in a sea of people who you know are your classmates, but who also just make you realize how in four years, you only scratched the surface of meeting fellow 2016-ers.

You're sitting under the little shade of a tree (lucky you!), enjoying the speeches of your classmates and faculty, getting pinched or pinching your friends occasionally, craning your head to see if you can spot your loved ones on the sidelines, and then realizing you sat on the wrong side of the lawn. (But don't worry! You'll see them soon enough.)

Your mind is on the tall black gate just behind you--the FitzRandolph Gate. You walked in through the main gates as a freshman, wide-eyed, a little skinny and awkward, but ready for what Princeton held for you. And in the years since, you've bought into the legend that if you pass through the center gate before you graduate, your chances of actually graduating are doomed.

So for four years, you've used the side gates with seeming nonchalance, but really with steeled determination.

And then your University president says a closing phrase in Latin and a flock hats go up in the air. People are standing. The music is triumphant You and your friends are laughing as you are pushed in the waves that bring you closer and closer to the Gate.

You share a last few moments on the Princeton side, shouting happy, silly things at your friend, who is recording and narrating the moment you pass right under those gates.

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I guess you've graduated!   

You loop back into campus, hug your family, pick up your diploma and eat some food.

You say goodbye to those friends you love so well, at least the ones you can find before they leave. You ask your mom to take pictures of you with them, and find later she's taken pictures of your last hugs as well. 

Your room is packed in boxes, your car is heaving away from Princeton with the weight of your things and memories. 

And when you wake up the next morning in a house instead of a dorm room, you remember your friends are scattering to the winds already. And there's a strange feeling in your chest. I went to Princeton. It's past tense now, like a dream past!

But what a good dream it was. 

Part 2 of senior year blog catch-up: the VIS (visual arts) thesis show! 

You might remember from a past blog, my senior independent work did not end with an English thesis. Two weeks after I submitted "In a Style Entirely New," I dove into the work needed to finish my VIS show that was scheduled to be up two weeks later.  

And what was the show, exactly? A story, made by placing sequential paintings around the gallery.

I've been forever interested in exploring childhood, time, memory and what it means for my own life to be part of a larger narrative created by an artist. These themes (hopefully!) played out in the story of two people entering a subway. The daughter is separated from her mother, ages through the journey...

...really, the best way I can explain the art and storyline is to show it to you. I've dedicated a page on my portfolio site to a digital version of the show, so feel free to check it out! The online version is not the same experience as seeing it in person, but I hope you still enjoy. 

A quick rundown of how the actual show went down:

Planning and thumbnails

I knew pretty early on in the year the gist of the story I wanted to tell. Some of the earliest steps included sketching the panels of the story on paper, then cutting and pinning them onto foam core.

I had roughly drawn the architecture of the room on the boards, so I could move pieces and plan how the story would unfold. My ideas developed through sketching and revising, plus conversations with amazing faculty, including my primary adviser Eve Ascheim, and my secondary advisers Joe Scanlan and Kurt Kauper! 

Drawing

Most of the process boiled down to hours and hours of drawing during the year. Well, especially in the last few weeks before the show, but also during the year.

I used Photoshop to draw on my personal computer, but I also worked in Princeton's New Media Center, which has giant gorgeous monitors and super fast computers. Once I knew what I wanted to draw, it was a matter of blocking out the sketch then going back and refining:  

This went down for 90+ panels.

Printing, printing, printing

Major shout-out to Rick and Steve for their help and patience in ordering paper and suppling ink! 

I used the 24" printer all the way on the top floor of the art building, and the 44" printer down in its dark bowels. Quality takes time, which means these quality printers are kind of slow! I spent some long nights drawing in the pockets of time between printings: jumping between the two printers and setting off jobs, correcting measurements I had messed up, trimming edges, and hoping that a printer wouldn't die on me in these precious days before set-up.

This is definitely a stage I'm happy is over, but there was also a lot of joy in seeing the work come out so beautifully!

Setting up

Have I mentioned that I have amazing, amazing people in my life? As in, the kind of people who smilingly give their time and energy to help you, asking for nothing back? ​The kind of people who climb up and down scaffolds (sometimes in ways of some questionable safety) to make sure your art--even the art placed inconveniently high--looks good?

Who peel back countless little command strip papers and place them adhesive on your prints? And who take breaks only to work on their junior paper?

Who you ask to paint the wall black, and who then proceed to carefully dab the corners with small brushes to make sure the job is beautiful? 

Who will stay with you in that gallery for multiple days even when their own final presentations are due, who brings you tasty food snacks, who suggests where to place the work, who laughs and sings musicals along with you until the job is done?

The kind of people who spend hours with you, constructing a frame out of foam core, sweeping up the little white slips of paper that cover the floor like freshly fallen snow, measuring panels perfectly, dancing to the music we put on in the background, trying to make the sketchy ventilation room and spray-on adhesive work, holding up pieces of art to a wall and adjusting till they are straight, who buy lunch for the gang and laughingly wave off your thanks? Who make what should have been a very stressful set-up weekend some of the most joyful days you had at Princeton?

I know those kind of friends! 

  And I know I can't thank them enough for the blessing that was their time and encouragement. They are the only reason the show exists!

Then the gallery opened

On April 21, 2016 the show opened in the Lucas Gallery! 

I shared the gallery floor space with the super cool Amalya Megerman (whose poster for "Megerman Beach" is on the left).

This concept and show had been in my head for so long, so it was amazing to see it physically in a space. I took a very informal video walk-through, if you want more of a sense of the space. 

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The VIS program also sets you up with a show reception, buying delicious food spreads for you to offer your friends and admirers that come to look at the art that evening. So fancy! 

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I loved talking with people about how they followed the story, answer their questions about the blue swirl, or ask them what they saw in it. There were people that came up to me with real tears running down their face, and I had a friend who came to me with three different ways to read the story, including an interpretation that had you walk backwards! 

Do you know how crazy it is that just for being in the VIS program, you get incredible artists to advise you, a generous stipend for supplies, a studio space to call your own, access to amazing technical resources and staff, a gallery space for whatever type of show you want to put up, a communications office who creates posters, postcards, and promotes your work around the community, and a whole host of faculty who just want you to make the best show possible? I think about it and realize, "Whoa! That is not real life!

" 

But it is something amazing, and something I am so grateful to have taken part in. 

How to say goodbye

After the week was over, it was time for the show to come down and make way for the next week's student!

Before: 

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After (almost done): 

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In some ways, it was painful to take down the show: after all, the panels represented many, many hours of work and so much joy in the installation and reception. 

And yet, sometimes it is good to let the time pass as it does. 

And then move forward!

Hello from the other side of the FitzRandolph gates!

I did indeed graduate Princeton a couple months ago (don't worry, that all worked out). Although, the last months of school were so crazy, I had no chance for closure on this blog! Since I'd really love to share how my time at Princeton wrapped up, I'm going to make a few final posts.

First up, an update on the great and terrifying:

The senior thesis is the culmination of a year's research, thought, and writing. You might remember I was sketching out a senior thesis on Jane Austen's juvenilia back in October? I am very happy to tell you that by its April 2016 deadline, it was finished. And I loved it! 

Also, it had pictures.

What was it about again?

For only writing six complete novels, Jane Austen has done pretty well at drawing a crowd and marking her place as oh, I don't know, an unparalleled cultural and literary phenomenon. 

And yet despite her oeuvre's fame, nestled into the collection well before bright and sparkling "Pride and Prejudice," is a body of work that has little public voice. My thesis explored the stories and writing of Jane Austen commonly known as the juvenilia, work written while she was eleven to seventeen years old.  

The first 30 pages of my thesis presented a brief look at Jane Austen, then examined the criticism and nature of these earliest texts (which are amazing, as I hope you'll see). The next 70 or so pages of my thesis explored four specific texts critically, plus a creative component. What does that mean? That the English department is the best department.

I. Bringing "The Mystery" to Life

In theater, characters typically act in the paradigm where no audience exists; Jane Austen's short play "The Mystery" takes that trope and runs. Most of the play consists of characters whispering to each other, blithely unbothered by the fact that the plot is a total mystery to the audience.

You can find the play online in the middle of this article!

Since the Austen family performed with each other as an early version of home theater, for the creative portion of this section, I brought the play home to my own family. I performed "The Mystery" with them over Christmas, and then edited and analyzed what it meant to give bodies to the elusive, yet rollicking script. 

Some snapshots of the play:

Scene the First, as I introduced from the window. 

A great way to start off a play.

Those are indeed napkin cravats. Also our cat, Yupi! 

And what did Daphne whisper, in a voice inaudible to the camera? Who knows.

II. Defenestration with "Frederic and Elfrida"

We tend to have a very prim view of our famous authoress. But the visual language in the late 18th century caricatures that were around young Jane Austen were far from proper. Check out Mark Bill's comparison of a comic satirizing the royal class in the late 18th century, and then the late 19th century. 

One is definitely more exciting!

Flavors of the caricature style show up in the juvenilia's "A History of England,"  illustrated by Jane Austen's older sister Cassandra.  

I analyzed "Frederica and Elfrida" through the lens of 18th century prints, hoping to capture and enjoy the wild energy and exaggeration that lies laughing under her careful language.

For example: "From this period, the intimacy between the Families of Fitzroy, Drummond, and Falknor daily increased, till at length it grew to such a pitch, that they did not scruple to kick one another out of the window on the slightest provocation."

Or how any classic, dramatic beauty in Charlotte's suicide - a very Ophelia, river death -- is interrupted by the name of that elegant body of water. 

This was a fun chapter indeed! 

III. The Sweet Deceit of "Love and Freindship"

You've definitely seen the art of C.E. Brock and Hugh Thompson, Jane Austen's early champions of illustrations. They feature beautifully proportioned ladies and gentlemen, neatly dappled in watercolors and often framed by decal of curling ribbons. 

I don't claim to have their artistic prowess, but I did have a ton of fun parodying the style in contrast to young Austen's story, "Love and Freindship" (yes, spelled "e" before "i") in particular.  

When Augustus takes money from his father, he didn't steal from his desk, he "gracefully purloined from his father's escritore."

Things don't end well for the stories' beaux:

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Laura and company come across a terrible scene of "two gentlemen, most elegantly attired, but weltering in their own blood." Note how she first notices their dapper fashion, though!

IV. A Day Well Spent with "The Beautifull Cassandra"

In the very last section, I dove into the delicious "The Beautifull Cassandra" (yes, two "L"s. She was an idiosyncratic young speller!).

It is a novel of twelve tiny chapters, each about two sentences long and filled with laughter. On her adventure, Cassandra steals a bonnet, passes up a beautiful man,

knocks over a chef as she devours ice cream,

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and goes on a whole host of other adventures! Since my critical portion explored how this brings new meaning to "children's literature," I printed the creative portion in a small, spiral-bound book.

Turning it in

After many long discussions with my amazing adviser, Professor Claudia Johnson, months of research, writing, drawing, filming, my first ever all-nighter as I put on the finishing touches, going over notes made by the amazing Katherine Hawkins who proofread my 100+ pages twice...

...I turned in my thesis and creative books to the English department!  

You know that feeling of when you turn something in thinking, "my body and mind feel like death, but I am so happy right now?" That's what this moment was for me.

Looking back, I'm not entirely sure how it all came together, but I think of the thesis with real love for the literature, gratitude to the English department for letting me pursue a creative-critical thesis, and a smile when I think of the happy desperation my fellow English major buddy and I shared, scooting around the library on those rolling office chairs, chasing and poking each other as midnight approached. Truly, a thesis is a sign of my academic maturation! 

Also, I sliced my finger on a page just before I wrote my name, so the last page the Princeton honor pledge literally signed in a little blood.