A letter to new university students

You have just moved into your dorm and sat through a slightly bewildering class. If someone asked what university means to you, what would you say?

Another year of high school, early study sessions, soldering circuits, calculus; research, competitions, internships; peer pressure and endless competition. Or clubs, live music, friends, and hobbies. As someone only a year ahead of you, I want to talk about university and some things you may already be experiencing.

You are entering a wider world

For many students coming from the orderly routine of high school, this is the first time there is no clear route map. You do not always know what to do next. There are graduate admissions, studying abroad, research, competitions, internships, clubs, student organizations, and plenty of fun. Feeling lost or overwhelmed is normal. Be generous with yourself and allow yourself to feel different things.

You will encounter many firsts. Your world will repeatedly expand, and you will repeatedly realize that you have only scratched its surface. Through trying things, your ability to act will grow too.

Over these four years, I think few things matter more than getting to know yourself: what you want, your ideals and ambitions, your agency and motivation. Do things you want to do. Do not constantly stop yourself with “I'm not ready” or “I'm not good enough yet.” Take the first step and let preparation and growth happen alongside it.

Have the courage to move first. Do what feels meaningful, seek good places and good work, find somewhere with a gradient, and train your own parameters.

Where these choices can lead

When you first arrive, graduate admissions, studying abroad, research, competitions, and internships often come up together, as though you need to do them all. It helps to separate them: recommendation-based admission, entrance exams, and overseas applications are routes to further study; research careers, industry work, and starting a company are possible destinations; competitions, projects, research, and internships are experiences you can try along the way.

If you want graduate admission, there is nothing wrong with working hard for the grades and opportunities you need. Also look one step further: What do you hope to gain from graduate study? Deeper knowledge, a different environment, better job opportunities, or a chance to keep doing research? Getting clearer about that can help you decide where to spend your time.

If you want to go deeper into a subject, explore its courses and research areas. If you want to know whether a kind of work suits you, look at what people actually do in those jobs, talk to them, and seek projects or internships. To experience research, you can begin with a small project and talk to older students and faculty. A competition gives you a defined task and teammates; research gives you experience formulating questions and testing your ideas.

Even a wish as broad as “I want to go somewhere better” can become more specific: what attracts you there, and whom would you like to work with, on what? Get some experience, then adjust. For me, the excitement of making demos was one reason I kept exploring AI. I discuss why I moved toward research in this answer.

Still, knowing your options does not necessarily stop you from worrying when others seem far ahead. I have been there too.

I also wondered why everyone else had already started

Many younger students tell us they do not know how to plan and feel that no one is guiding them. Then they see peers and older students achieving things and feel they have nothing.

There is no universal formula. There really is a high-school-like, achievement-driven story about age around us: “If you have not joined a lab in your first year, won a national scholarship, or secured an internship in your second, you are behind.” Those of us sharing experience should ask whether we help create that anxiety.

It leaves you lost and blaming yourself for still being lost: why do I not have a lab or a paper? Can I get into the graduate school I want?

I sometimes use the person I hope to become to punish the person I am now. But not knowing yet does not mean never knowing. Some things cannot be obtained by effort alone, and that does not make your whole life a failure.

When I first arrived, I worried too: everyone was joining labs, and I had never learned C. How were people getting into good graduate schools?

In February, feeling brushed aside by someone and overwhelmed by the gap between me and more experienced students, I experienced anxiety with physical symptoms. In March, I was still telling a mentor how badly I wanted to be able to collaborate and know people as he did. Looking at myself, I seemed to know no one.

May brought my first paper deadline: awkward writing and constant self-doubt. August brought my first rejection and regret about how I had handled May. I am grateful for the understanding, trust, and guidance of the students who helped me learn from those experiences.

Gradually I met more people and earned some recognition. I became a little better at writing papers and making figures, found friends, and gained some steadiness. I began asking “Am I qualified?” less often, doing the work in front of me, and moving toward the person I wanted to become.

Some things that once felt impossible to get past now make me smile. They really did shape me. I want to quote Saining Xie from an interview, in translation:

Do not fixate on success or failure at every moment, or gains and losses at each point. Research is an integral: all those evaluations accumulate, and together they determine whether you are a good researcher.

This is about more than research. It is also a way of living.

I wrote a fuller account in My Freshman-Year Review: The World Suddenly Opens Wide.

You also have a life to live

People are free. Loving yourself matters. No reason should take away your ability to notice beauty, experience life, or follow a choice without calculating its usefulness.

You can stay up to finish a paper, spend a day doing practice questions, debug a circuit or program all afternoon, and polish a presentation seven or eight times. You can also take a taxi straight to a concert or a drinks event, visit a café full of plants, choose a dessert, and imagine the little shop you might open or the place you might live.

Or watch the sunset by East Lake without a destination, enjoying time with people you treasure.

A competition may go badly, or research may stall. I hope ordinary beauty can still make you happy and fulfilled. It is an important part of life in its own right.

Gradually develop your own judgment

Experiments, formulas, people you ask for help, papers, architectures you finally understand, people you meet, and places you visit all change your picture of the world. You also learn more about yourself.

I do not care much which ideology people file these choices under. If there is something you want to try, try it. People making different choices can still get along. We can discuss a specific mistake or flawed idea; a label cannot replace that conversation.

So keep asking, learning deeply, and staying curious. Go to good places and do good work. You already have worth; gradually build a steady center of your own.

Through rising and falling tides, recognize both the breadth of the world and your small place in it, and keep moving. If a few months from now you can smile about things that used to hurt and see the distance you have traveled, you are becoming a better version of yourself.

Whether or not our paths remain together, meeting and watching one another grow into independent people is what makes sharing these experiences worthwhile.

Where to go next

Curious about research? Read How to get started in research. Want to do something first? Try a small project. For other people's experiences, visit experience and lessons. For the rest of life, continue here.