Overhearing someone say “TensorFlow” and questioning your major.
OVERHEARING SOMEONE SAY “TENSORFLOW” AND QUESTIONING YOUR MAJOR.
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You’re deep into your reading for a humanities seminar, coffee long cold, trying to make sense of a complex theory. Then it happens. A snippet of conversation drifts from a nearby table: “...and then with TensorFlow, the model really optimized...” Your head snaps up. TensorFlow. The word hangs in the air, a profound declaration from a realm you barely comprehend. Suddenly, your carefully constructed essay feels less like a scholarly endeavor and more like a crayon drawing. Do you even belong here? Is your major just a charming hobby compared to the real work others are doing? That’s the particular brand of academic panic that hits different here.
It’s not just the jargon, though. It’s the late-night battles with a perpetually flickering campus Wi-Fi signal when a deadline looms, the collective groan in the library when the internet hiccups, or the existential dread of a corrupted file on the eve of a major submission. These moments, blending cutting-edge tech lingo with old-fashioned digital despair, are a core part of our shared experience. They are the background hum to the relentless pursuit of excellence, the silent understanding that we’re all navigating this exhilarating, overwhelming intellectual landscape. You learn to laugh, to commiserate, and to somehow still turn in your best work, even if you’re silently questioning everything.