Outside the airplane window, thick, cottony clouds blanketed the light blue sky. As I stared at them, I could not help but feel nostalgic about the past four days at Camp Kesem. It felt like an oasis - close yet distant. If you were to ask me what my favorite part of summer was, the delicious Shanghai trip and eye-opening hospital internship in D.C. are strong contenders, but without a doubt, my time at Camp Kesem tops the list. 

Camp Kesem provides free summer camps for children and adolescents whose parents are battling cancer. It offers a safe space where they can connect with others, process their emotions, and simply have fun. Luckily, Princeton has a chapter, and I was fortunate enough to serve as a counselor this year. 

This was my first experience being a camp counselor, and I’ll admit, I was nervous at first. Would I be able to bond with the kids? Could I keep up with their energies? But soon after they arrived, those nerves melted away. The kids’ boundless enthusiasm and the jam-packed daily schedule quickly pulled me in. I was one of the counselors in charge of six 13-14 year-old boys, and they were a prime example of how easy it is for kids to form friendships. As we were setting up the sleeping bags, one giant spider caught everyone’s attention, and the next thing I knew they were all talking to each other about it and debating whether they should save it or smash it. In the next couple of hours, our conversations veered from “how to cheat in Call of Duty” to “using honey packets as passes to enter the cabin.” They bonded over everything. 

Because we only had two full days and two half days for camp, we jam-packed each day with activities and games. I’d never seen a denser schedule. I remember staring at the schedule and thinking, “There’s no way I’ll make it through this.” But at the end of each day, exhaustion didn’t feel like a burden. Instead, it was a reminder of how much joy we had brought to the kids. In just 72 hours, we managed to cook s’mores, race Go Karts, present a talent show, and play endless games and sports. My favorite part? Watching the kids’ faces light up with genuine joy. It was a great reminder that life is meant to be lived with laughter and happiness. It was a powerful lesson to hold on to those moments, no matter how busy life gets. 

Yet, Camp Kesem wasn’t just about games and laughter. A core part of the camp’s mission is to provide a space for the kids to open up about their parents’ cancer. During nightly cabin chats and Empowerment, where we gathered in a circle to share stories and feelings, I witnessed a different side of the campers. The same kids who had been silly and goofy just hours before became attentive listeners. Some of them were strong enough to share their own experiences with their parents’ cancer — moments of sadness, uncertainty, and resilience. It’s in those vulnerable moments that the true magic of Kesem revealed itself. We are giving these kids a sanctuary to fully experience the joys of childhood and be their best selves. I’m sure a lot of the kids don’t feel comfortable talking about cancer to anyone at school, which is why it’s so important that they feel welcomed, supported, and understood during the few days at camp. 

Ever since I started my Princeton journey, I have been trying to link the informal motto — “Princeton in the Nation’s Service and the Service of Humanity” — to the things I do. And so far, Camp Kesem felt like the most natural extension of that mission. It’s truly a special feeling when I realized the direct benefits I was bringing to this young and vulnerable community. For me, Kesem became more than just a summer activity; it was a chance to connect personally with a cause I care deeply about. A few years ago, my grandma who lives in Shanghai was diagnosed with breast cancer, and living so far away made me feel helpless. But Kesem gave me a platform to contribute, to help ease the pain of cancer for others, and I can’t express enough how grateful I am for that. 

Now, before I sign off, I have to brag about my fellow counselors and the amazing admin team. They are some of the kindest souls I’ve ever met. It truly felt like we were all in this together - working as a tight-knit team to create the best possible experience for our campers. I got to know so many awesome Princetonians through Kesem, and I can’t wait to greet them by their camp names on campus (mine is Quokka, by the way)! 

Camp ended only two days ago, but I’m already looking forward to next summer. There’s something so uniquely fulfilling about this kind of work, and I can’t recommend it enough for anyone who’s looking to make the same kind of impact. So, once again, thank you Kesem, for such a magical experience. You’ve helped me grow in patience, compassion, and service. See you next year! 

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The weeks leading up to move-in day can be interesting. On the one hand, you are filled with nothing but excitement, eagerly awaiting the next chapter of your life to begin; on the other, you are filled with anything but excitement, hesitantly awaiting the next chapter of your life to begin. When I went through these imminence-filled weeks, both of these hands seemed to have a grip on me, tugging in opposite directions. Since move-in day is quickly approaching, I wanted to share my story — from the exciting to the not-so-exciting, which I hope may provide some solace to all who may be experiencing the same tug-of-war feelings as I did.

Let us start with the exciting because, honestly, getting ready for college is exciting. My pre-frosh summer was when I really started to feel like a Princeton student. Through ClassPath, a summer-long online Orientation program designed to guide and support all soon-to-be frosh in their transition to Princeton, I not only became more acquainted with important University ins and outs but also my fellow “zees,” short for “advisees” — our main adviser was our RCA, or Residential College Adviser. Little did I know at the time that these “zees” would soon become close friends. Additionally, through weekly Summer Engagement Cohort meetings, I got to know several ‘28ers outside of my zee group. My cohort and I completed various activities together and openly discussed topics to which we could all relate, which was really fun and helpful. I remember one topic we discussed was residential college assignments. In late June, I found out I had been placed into Rockefeller, or Rocky, College! Upon hearing this, I was ecstatic, as I had hoped to get assigned to one of the older res. colleges — and I was so thankful I did! All this, from learning more about my class to celebrating my residential college placement, was just the tip of the iceberg.

However, there were still plenty of doubts and questions amid all my excitement. As each day drew closer to move-in, ruminating on “what-ifs” and “what-could-happens” left me overwhelmed. So much seemed to be in the unknown, and my mind felt deluged: a rigorous school… a faraway school… new places… filled with new people…. Now, do not get me wrong, I knew what I had signed up for when I committed to Princeton; there just seemed to be an irritating voice in my head that only intensified as the whole “going to Princeton thing” became more real. Such unpleasant thinking ultimately gave way to a giant with which I had never struggled: intrusive thoughts. (Intrusive thoughts are usually unwanted, stress-inducing ideas or images that involuntarily and repeatedly flash through one’s mind — and are very common; these ideas and images are deemed as “intrusive” because they often conflict with one’s beliefs and values, making them hard to expel.) I wrestled with these thoughts for weeks and weeks; I was aware they did not reflect who I knew I was, which only resulted in a perpetual mental war. However, as the war raged on, I gradually realized it had already been won, not by me, but by Him. He defined who I was, not some nagging thought; I stopped battling against the lies, leaning into the “even-ifs” instead of the “what-ifs” — faith over fear — and trusting the One who was and is far more capable than I. Over time, the thoughts slowly drifted away; by a few weeks into the school year — yes, a few weeks into the school year — they had departed completely. The giant was dead. 

I wanted to share this not-so-exciting aspect of my journey to move-in/college primarily for two reasons: 1) To help anybody who may be facing the same giant or something similar, and 2) To stress the fact that you never really know what someone is enduring. Concerning the first reason, if you are struggling, do not suffer in silence, nor discount the importance of gratitude. Reach out to somebody — a loved one, a mentor, a teacher, a coach, a pastor, etc. Talking with the Lord and my family helped me truly see how powerless my intrusive thoughts were. Moreover, count your blessings. Doing so when anxious may sound ironic  — I’m kind of struggling right now… can’t really think of much to be thankful for… But through focusing on every little thing for which I had to be grateful, my mind became consumed by something other than anxious thoughts: peace. Max Lucado, a widely known pastor and author, once stated in a sermon that anxiety flees when thanksgiving enters the room, and I have found that such cannot be more true — Philippians 4:6-7. Regarding the second reason, remember the Golden Rule: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Strive to love unconditionally, as the person who you think has everything together may be falling apart. Feeling the love of others and, likewise, loving others helped me to not dwell on my thoughts as much — love will always conquer a lie. At the end of the day, seeking support, giving thanks, and living out the Golden Rule go a long way. 

In late August, I officially moved into Princeton. The days, weeks, and months that led up to that day were not a cakewalk, but through fortitude rooted in faith, things, slowly but surely, worked out. In the end, the giant that tried to take me down only ended up strengthening me in so many areas of my life. So, when you feel your worries trying to creep in, tell them to go on — reach out to others, cultivate gratitude, look to love, know He can defeat the giant — and fully embrace your excitement!

Oh, sweet summertime,

Gone so fast,

Mem’ries last. 

Woods of fireflies,

Sun has set.

Dark blue skies,

Crystalline net.

Bright beaming stars,

A dirt road.

Above cars,

Some secret code. 

Late evening walk,

Pines surround. 

A nice talk,

Barks from a hound.

Oh, sweet summertime,

Sour green lime.

Hopping in pools,

Bracing swim.

Sapphire jewels

Shine like a glim. 

Reading a book,

Page by page. 

A plot hook

Takes center stage. 

Passing peach trees,

Countless fields.

A cool breeze

Humid air shields.

Oh, sweet summertime,

Still wind chime.

Crepe myrtles glow,

Withers grass. 

A grand show,

Rabbit darts past. 

Drips of ice cream

On my hand,

Like a stream

Of grains of sand.

Gorgeous ocean,

Waves that thud. 

Slow motion,

Castles of mud. 

Oh, sweet summertime,

Paradigm.

A blowing fan,

Fire pavement.

Chills the tan,

One’s amazement.

A hot truck ride,

Hat on dash.

Road is wide,

Gas pedal mash.

A red sunburn,

One May day.

A slow turn,

Radiant ray. 

Oh, sweet summertime,

Sunlight prime.

Cardinal hides,

Little red. 

Quickly glides,

Feathered wings spread. 

Lone fawn appears

From the wood.

Sound she hears,

Not understood.

Butterfly wings

Dance on past.

Lovely things,

Small shadow cast. 

Impressive ant,

Moving so.

Stopping, can’t,

Places to go.

Oh, sweet summertime,

Lines of rhyme.

The Creator,

High above.

No greater

Is there a love.

He made all things,

Elation. 

To Him sings

All creation. 

Formed ev’ry land,

Sky and sea.

His right hand

E’er upholds me.

Oh, sweet summertime,

Can’t define.

How sublime!

Summer is a busy season for many college students, from study abroad programs to internships to — in the case of Princeton — senior thesis research. During such a season, a little voice can flood students’ minds, irritatingly whispering, “You should be doing more. So-and-so is doing this-and-that; meanwhile, you’re doing such-and-such.” This voice is no stranger to me, but I have realized its powerlessness through emphasizing and enjoying simple blessings in my life, like those that spring from my church family, peach fields, and good books. 

In late June, I volunteered as a junior counselor for Beach Retreat, an annual youth trip my church holds, and doing so made me more appreciative of all the little things that go into making the trip as impactful and memorable as it is. My responsibilities as a junior counselor generally included helping facilitate small-group discussions, set up games, and lead a team. I got to see “behind the scenes” of everything, a side I do not think I ever truly contemplated before elevating up to junior counselor status. There is so much diligent planning that goes into making Beach Retreat what it is, especially in terms of gathering all the materials needed for instruction, game preparation, and meals. After experiencing such planning firsthand as a junior counselor, I see the trip through a better lens, one that does not solely focus on the big focal points but also the minute invaluable details. Without all the efforts and time poured into it, Beach Retreat would not emit the same degree of spiritual insight and influence as it currently does. 

Now, I want to transition to a topic that is a little more peachy than beachy… literally. Where I am from is surrounded by fields and fields of peach trees, and summer is when the sweet stone fruit reaches its ripest state — at Beach Retreat, we actually ate a delicious peach cobbler, a beloved Southern dessert you have to try! One evening a few weeks ago, my dad and I went on a long walk and passed acres and acres of trees bearing the delectable staple of my hometown. As we passed the trees, I thought about the significance they hold to me. I have never seen a peach tree at Princeton before, though I am sure there are some in the vicinity. So when I see the endless rows of peach trees that line my rural Southern town, I am reminded of my appreciation for the little things that make my home so special. Regardless of where I go, I know the peach trees will always be there to welcome me when I return! 

Aside from admiring the peach-adorned landscapes of my hometown, I have also gotten to appreciate some literary works recently. At the moment, I am reading This Side of Paradise by none other than Princeton attendee F. Scott Fitzgerald, which serves as my fourth book this summer. (Now, let me preface that I am not a huge reader. I like reading, but for me to finish a book completely, it has to really interest me. So far, the four I have undertaken have done just that!) The first two I read were Mostly What God Does by co-anchor of NBC News’s Today Savannah Guthrie and Goliath Must Fall by Pastor Louie Giglio. Guthrie’s vulnerable reflections on her faith journey and Giglio’s message of how Jesus has defeated the giants in our lives, drawing from the Biblical narrative of David and Goliath, were very heartening to my faith. The second duo I tackled, and am still working on, was definitely Fitzgerald-based: The Great Gatsby and This Side of Paradise. This year marked the 100th anniversary of The Great Gatsby, and This Side of Paradise is Fitzgerald’s first novel and largely based on his experiences at Princeton. I, consequently, felt compelled to read the acclaimed — and somewhat historical — novels, whose beautiful passages and Princeton roots did not disappoint! I am very thankful for the ways these four works have challenged and inspired me. 

I write these paragraphs about beaching, peaching, and literary reaching to motivate you to neither compare yourself to others nor discount the little things in life. Over the summer especially, it is easy to fall into the misconception that everybody is everywhere doing everything and you are not doing enough. When that falsehood attempts to take rent in your mind, take time to remind yourself of the things for which you are grateful, and endeavor to make the most of each day. For me — not trying to come across as pious but instead as honest — I try to carry out such through striving to glorify and honor God in all I think, say, and do. When your summer reaches a close, I hope you feel immense amounts of gratitude and satisfaction as you look back on weeks spent not stressing and comparing but rather delighting in the many simplicities of and living out life.

The end of my sophomore year was a whirlwind — of work, packing, and emotions. Now that I’m home, decompressing from this academic semester, I have a better chance to reflect on my final months as a sophomore, and I find myself filled with gratitude and nostalgia.

In my last couple of weeks on campus, the sun finally made an appearance. This came after what seemed like the longest winter, and the happy weather filled me with some much-needed motivation. I found myself taking more walks with friends, hosting study picnics, and stopping to admire the nature around me every chance I got.

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The sunshine was a welcome break from the seemingly endless rainstorms that marked April. In fact, the long-awaited event of Declaration Day was filled with mucky rain. During ‘Declaration Day’, a keynote event for sophomores to declare their chosen major, I declared Comparative Literature, excited to acclimate to my small but stimulating department, and enjoyed the day racing around the mud to take pictures with friends.

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After that, the semester seemed to zoom by like a roller coaster: there was the last week of classes, Lawnparties, Reading Period, Finals, and, finally, move-out. During this Reading Period, I toggled between extensive studying and vast socializing periods. This period of the spring semester, specifically, is always bittersweet. You start to recognize that the people you see daily will be scattered worldwide for many months during the summer holiday. Although I had a lot of work to do, I devoted as much time as possible to being with friends. Whether it was day trips to New York, midday picnics, or study breaks to grab a sweet treat, this was the most fun-filled Reading Period of my Princeton experience. And it made the stress of finals a little more bearable.

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My last day on campus was filled with packing. I had 24 hours to pack my sweet dorm into boxes and garbage bags. I think this was the most wistful part of all. I adored my sophomore dorm and found myself waxing nostalgic for all the memories that would live there: late-night hangouts with friends, floor picnics, study sessions. My dorm served me well, and I was sad to leave it.

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More than anything, putting a bow on my sophomore year was more difficult than I thought it would be. This was the year that I finally felt like a true Princeton student. I found my community—socially and academically. I realized my passions; I pursued them.

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A bittersweet fact dawned on me in the middle of my drive home from the spring semester: I was halfway through my Princeton experience. And just as fast as the last two years rippled by, the next two surely would as well. With this realization, I’m doing my best not to take anything for granted and to cherish every opportunity to spend time with friends and learn in this community. It goes by fast, but I’m excited for the beauty the next two years will bring.

Berggasse 19 was once home to Sigmund Freud, an Austrian neurologist who was more famously known as the father of psychoanalysis.

With its inconspicuous white bricks and stained-wood doors, the Freud Museum looks just like every other building in the block. In fact, its facade creates a deceptive illusion that attempts to conceal the symbolism, the history, and the importance of this otherwise significant building. 

This significant building was my home during the Summer.

For 6 weeks I studied abroad in Vienna, Austria, through the PIIRS Global Seminar program at Princeton University. From the Salzburg Alps to the Danube River, I immersed myself in the Viennese lifestyle: trekking through beautiful forest paths, wading through sparkling turquoise water, and attending lively music concerts where I understood nothing. 

On the flipside, I also spent hours on the third floor of Bergasse 19, attending lectures, giving presentations, and learning how to speak German. With the assistance of Professor. Gallo of the German Department and graduate student Friederike Ach, 11 other students and I learned what it truly meant to embody the spirit of learning beyond borders. 

From operas to concerts, art museums to libraries, and mixers to dinners, learning transcended the museum’s walls. 

We dined with guests of the most distinguished nature, learning from famous musicians and local university students what it meant to be Viennese. 

Eat schnitzel. Swim in the Danube. Get a sacher-torte (chocolate cake). 

Together, we visited magnificent castles and saw the tombs of the Habsburg emperors. We hiked the Austrian Alps and walked the Ringstraße. We attended traditional performances and luxurious dinners.

Indeed, this truly was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

My peers and I entered this experience as strangers, muttering tentative greetings and hesitant introductions but we left as friends, with shared experiences that cannot be replicated.

It was a period in my life where there was truly no limit to what I could experience — Princeton’s Global Seminar program broadened my horizons and gave me an opportunity to learn by experiencing.  

Through cultural immersion, I was able to think like the Viennese, act like the Viennese, and be Viennese; I experienced a glimpse of the world beyond by leveraging Princeton’s extensive resources abroad to truly make the most of this opportunity. 

It was a “soft landing” to the world beyond — in other words, Vienna felt just like home. 

I had access to people who knew where the closest laundromat was, where the best restaurants to eat were, and what “ausgang” meant in English. I had opportunities to visit expensive museums, taste regional cuisines, and interact with the local students. But more importantly, I had a group of people with me who could empathize with the difficulties of living abroad for the first time. 

To others, the Freud Museum looks just like every other building on Bergasse street. But to the 12 of us who left Princeton this Summer, it is a place where we struggled, learned, and celebrated what it means to learn beyond borders. 

This past summer, I had the incredible opportunity to intern at an aerospace startup in Singapore, through the Streicker Fellowship, which supports students in pursuing self-sourced internships abroad. It was a summer packed with innovation, learning, and unexpected discoveries that went far beyond just professional development.

During my internship, I dove headfirst into some pretty exciting projects. My main task was testing and optimizing a carbon nanotube neutralizer grid to reduce the power and propellant demands of hall effect thrusters. It was amazing to contribute to something with real-world applications for space technology!

During the internship, I picked up a range of technical skills that I hadn’t fully mastered before. I learned how to operate vacuum chambers, wire electric circuits, and, perhaps the most thrilling part, actually fire a thruster. There’s nothing quite like the feeling of seeing your work come to life and perform exactly how you hoped it would. I’m not going to lie—there were a few misfires along the way, but each challenge was a valuable lesson.

Beyond the technical side, the best part was reconnecting with old passions and meeting some fantastic people. From the very beginning, my coworkers and supervisors made me feel incredibly welcome. They were always ready to lend a hand or offer mentorship, guiding me through every part of my project and sharing invaluable advice. They went the extra mile to recommend must-visit spots around Singapore and even brought me local dishes to try during our lunch breaks. I also formed great friendships with the other interns, who were just as enthusiastic about exploring Singapore with me. Singapore itself became a huge source of inspiration. I joined a local sketching group that met weekly, and it quickly became one of my favorite parts of the experience. There’s no better way to take in a city than sitting down with a pencil and notebook, trying to capture its energy on paper.

Singapore is a fascinating blend of modern skyscrapers, lush green spaces, and colorful, traditional Peranakan houses. Sketching the contrast between futuristic buildings and historical architecture was an unforgettable way to experience the city’s diverse identity. Every session made me appreciate Singapore’s unique combination of the old and the new, nature and innovation.

In the end, this summer wasn’t just about enhancing my technical skills in aerospace—it was about reconnecting with my passion for sketching and connecting with a vibrant new culture: science by day, sketches by night, and a whole lot of growth in between. Learning to fire a thruster or wire circuits was thrilling, but the true lessons came in navigating a new cultural environment, taking risks in both my work and personal life, and stepping outside my comfort zones. Each day demanded a new level of adaptability—whether it was addressing the technical misfires that came with operating vacuum chambers or collaborating across language barriers. These situations taught me to problem-solve quickly, think creatively under pressure, and stay focused despite setbacks. I also found new challenges in capturing Singapore's cityscapes in my sketchbook, each structure pushing me to see and render the world differently.

Returning to Princeton, I find myself carrying these lessons with me. Navigating complex group projects or tackling demanding coursework feels different now, as I approach each new challenge with the adaptability and resilience I acquired this summer. I've come back not just with new technical skills, but with a greater confidence in taking on roles that require both independent problem-solving and collaborative effort. The blend of passions and challenges I experienced this summer reminds me to keep stretching beyond my comfort zones—a mindset I’m bringing to everything I do here.

Last fall, I wrote about my experience as an intern through Princeton Internships in Civic Service (PICS)—a program that connects undergraduate students with community partners to complete funded summer internships in civic service. Having loved the work that I did last summer, I was excited to return for a second PICS internship.

Summer internships are an excellent opportunity to explore your career interests. They are opportunities to assess what you do and don’t like about particular fields or work environments, as well as allow you to reflect on what you can improve on as a young professional. My decision to work for the Latin American Legal Defense Fund last summer was a result of my interest in the nonprofit sector generally, as well as the organization’s commitment to the empowerment of immigrant communities. I loved working within the environment of a nonprofit organization, but I knew I wanted to seek out an internship that would be more directly involved in legal work in the future. Thankfully, PICS’ wide variety of community partners made it very easy to find another organization that aligned with my values and interests.

Immigration Equality is an organization that provides legal services to LGBTQ and HIV-positive immigrants and their families, particularly for those seeking asylum or refugee status. The organization is involved in a wide range of advocacy and litigation efforts in addition to connecting individuals with other pro bono attorneys as necessary and hosting relevant events around New York City.

When seeking out my internship for the summer of my junior year, I knew I wanted to connect with an organization deeply rooted in immigration justice and advocacy. Immigration Equality was truly the best organization I could have ended up working at. I had the privilege of working alongside a team of extremely passionate, knowledgeable, and welcoming individuals. As a legal intern, I was responsible for a variety of projects, ranging from creating a presentation for a pro se asylum filing workshop to putting together a country conditions index for a client’s case. I was excited to get to work with many of the attorneys at Immigration Equality, especially since each worked on something different—the refugee program, asylum cases, and the detention hotline, to name a few. Furthermore, I felt myself grow as an individual in the workplace, advocating for myself to receive more assignments I was interested in and reaching out with questions whenever I felt confused. No matter how small or complicated my questions, everyone was always willing to take the time to respond and I can easily say I learned a lot about the immigration system.

My internship was remote, which meant that I was able to spend my summer reconnecting with my hometown in a way that I hadn’t gotten to since coming to Princeton. I enjoyed breakfast with my family every morning and did my work on the back porch with a cup of tea in the Florida heat. Getting to do so was an important part of what I hoped to get out of my summer, and I am thankful for my PICS internship’s role in enabling this for me. In addition to spending time at home, I was able to start preparing for my post-Princeton plans and take the time to reflect on the last few years. Connecting with my paired alumni mentor through PICS was an integral part of this reflection.

As I move into senior year, I feel recharged and fueled in my desire to pursue a career in immigration law. And although obvious nerves abound, I find myself more excited than ever to see where my future as an academic will take me.

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Recently, I began a short internship for a startup in New Zealand. The internship consists of making an interactive model of solar panel installations in augmented reality—fun—but not something I particularly have experience in. I casually vented to my friend about the task as (huge surprise) I know nothing about the topic. Her response made me pause. 

“That’s very startup-esk, you’re given a task with no onboarding”. 

Which is exactly true. This small comment reminded me of the beauty of startups: they often allow you to have tremendous creative freedom. More and more often, I’ve realized that I have a certain spark—sometimes a borderline obsession with a project—when I have this type of freedom. Whether it comes from innate creativity or the possibility in a project, I think all startups begin with that spark. Even the word startup implies this idea of possibility. It’s not called start here. Instead, you are dreaming up a new future. Working towards something new. 

I've realized that I’m attracted to this kind of work. I remember in high school when I wrote, illustrated, and self-published my own children’s book, it felt exactly this way. Every morning I woke up with one thing on my mind—illustration. That was my first Summer of Startups. 

As I’m still trying to find my own rhythm and passion, I think it’s important to recognize what gives me that spark. Whether that is working for a company or for myself, it’s up to me to decide what path to take—but it's not always easy. At Princeton, with what sometimes feels like a defined culture of chasing success, I’ve personally felt a certain frenzy to secure the correct steps and internships to “get to the top”. It’s too easy to see a predefined path and claim it as your own. It takes a lot more though, to define your own path. 

All of it, I’ll admit, can be quite hard. Even finding a spark can be rare. Having the courage to pursue it is even rarer. While my short internship this summer has reminded me about the beauty of startups and their endless possibilities, I’ll admit that I’m still discovering my passions. I have all too many times seen a desire to start something, but put it off due to one excuse or the other. With that, let me be the inspiration that I sometimes lack within myself. 

Let your mindset Start Up.

Let your habits Start Here.

And you. You Start It.

“When is the best time to plant a tree? Twenty years ago. The second-best time is today.” - Chinese proverb

When I first heard this proverb from one of my friends at Princeton, I understood the meaning, but I did not realize the meaning until much later. This summer, I interned for a venture capital firm in Tulsa, OK. I found Atento Capital through one of the Center for Career Development’s career fairs, and I decided to take a chance. My last blog talks about the value of taking a chance on a small city, so I won’t repeat myself here. What I will do, however, is talk about one of the biggest lessons I learned: the time to startup is now.

Being that Atento’s investment range is pre-seed and seed stage startup companies, I was exposed to the early life of many startups. From firsthand experience, I can say that it is a tough journey starting out. The venture capital world relies on a power rule in order to make money. For example, a firm may hear from thousands of companies, whittle it down to being interested in one hundred, and then investing in ten. Of those ten companies, half will fail, two or three will break even, one may slightly exceed the investment, and one may be a ‘home run’ which yields significant returns. It is a super volatile industry.

In the pivotal moments of a startup's early life, managing money is super important. Having time to deliver on a plan is the second battle, or in other words, managing what is called burn/runway. This is essentially how much time you have left before you run out of money in the bank. There are a variety of factors that influence this, which can become complicated to manage. Failure to do so oftentimes results in the end of the company or the need to raise more capital and lose ownership. This is why the time to make a startup is in college.

There are numerous benefits to starting a startup while in college. First off, The risk of failure is insignificant compared to the consequences if taken outside of college. While you are in school, the worst thing that can happen is your startup fails, you have more freetime on campus, and you learn a few lessons along the way. Perhaps an oversimplification, but while in college, you are in a protected bubble of opportunity. The present talent at school serves as a base to launch a project that can turn into something amazing. What other time will you be surrounded by hundreds of bright individuals within arms reach? On top of this, the entrepreneurial ecosystem at Princeton (and other schools) is very strong. The support is unmatched.

Additionally, pitch competitions often give non dilutive funding/grants to groups who perform the best - this is not something that happens outside of college; if someone gives you money, they expect returns. The worst part of raising funds for your startup is giving part of your business away, so why not take advantage of opportunities where that does not happen. In short, the best time to take a risk on a good idea and found a startup is in the nest of opportunity known as college! Facebook was founded twenty years ago at Harvard, the next ‘Facebook’ startup will be founded today, at Princeton. It's time to startup! 

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