Here at Stanford, along with (probably) a major in International Relations, I’m pursuing my passion for foreign languages – French and Spanish, specifically. I love that learning another language opens up so many doors – introducing a new way to communicate with people and express ideas that don’t necessarily translate to English. I know, I know, as cliché as all this sounds, it brings me to my point… I don’t speak a language that over 4000 Stanford students speak: “code.” Be it Java, C++ (yes, there are others, and no, I don’t know their names!), I’d say it’s all Greek to me, but honestly, I know more Greek just from becoming familiar with sorority and fraternity names.
It can be difficult identifying as a “fuzzy” on a campus that’s located in the epicenter of the technological revolution-- from dining hall tables to events, whenever I meet new people, one of the first questions exchanged (as every small-talk proficient college student knows) is, “So what are you studying?” Time and time again I am reminded how many students come here to study computer science. At first, it always surprised me: These 2 guys are both doing CS! That’s cool… oh, she is too. And these people. Wow, small world!
Small world? Not so much. Four thousand students! (At least. As I write this, I’m 99 percent sure the number is higher than that, but I’ll stick with my price-is-right estimate.)
I want to start by saying I don’t want to discourage anyone from/seeking to change anyone’s mind about studying CS. It is a crucial field that spurs pretty much every innovation we can think of nowadays, including products I couldn’t live without. More importantly, CS is changing how we experience the world and how we tackle difficult problems facing people far less fortunate than those living in its thriving hub. Finally, I am thoroughly impressed by how inclusive the CS community here seems – it’s recently become the most popular major for women on campus (yay gender equality!) and Stanford’s CS+X and Symbolic Systems program seem like a really unique way to offer a more versatile approach than the standard CS major.
This being said, it can be frustrating, at a school where the CS department could probably operate as an entirely separate college, to feel disconnected from peers whose course loads come across as nothing more than a jumble of numbers and letters to me. Part of what I loved about freshman year – with all of its breadth requirements and advisors and upperclassmen alike telling us to explore – were the conversations. Inevitably, living in such proximity to friends taking classes on gender, religion, environmental policy, film, etc., I came to understand what sorts of readings and assignments went along with these classes, and hearing my friends recount to me a particular topic or lecture that they found interesting constituted an irreplaceable part of the insight I consider myself to have gained last year. When people speak about their passions, it marvels me how much I learn about them, how much more I come to appreciate them. As my peers heading towards a CS major become more specialized, however, my hope of sharing these types of moments – which require my understanding on at least a basic level – fades away.
I’d like to point out that I have nothing against taking a CS class myself; in fact, it’s sort of on my Stanford bucket list, because CS is so ubiquitous here that I feel as though not taking 106A before I graduate would be sort of like traveling to Italy and opting not to learn a single word of Italian. However, it’s also not my main priority, and this is what I wish all of us had a better sense of here, with respect to students studying the humanities and social sciences: CS, as anyone will tell you, is an incredibly time-consuming endeavor. While this makes it all the more rewarding (from what I understand), I personally achieve a similar sense of satisfaction when I complete a French essay, or finish a reading that leaves me chock-full of points to discuss in class or questions to further consider. The world needs people who speak the language of computers, but it also needs people who study the past in order to better inform the future that CS is helping to build. We need people who tell stories that traverse cultures, people who tinker with tools in workshops and examine specimens in labs, people who study bodies, brains, and hearts. People who express themselves through a work of art, a dance, song, poem.
We need creative, problem-solving people and all of these people I mention are here at Stanford. Furthermore, these characteristics are not mutually exclusive: we are all of our interests, passions, and goals for our futures, stuffed into ambitious-yet-indecisive, barely-adult beings who want to change the world. And we all can, but we should realize that CS is not necessarily an indispensable variable in everyone’s equation for happiness and success. Most of us only have four years here, and we should be free to spend those years as we wish, not feeling as though we’re missing out on an entire culture.
In a perfect world (Stanford’s still pretty much as close as it gets, but I digress…), CS students and fuzzies alike would freely exchange ideas, and share a mutual respect for what each other are accomplishing. Upon hearing that someone studies a less popular major, and furthermore, doesn’t know exactly what they want to do with it, ideally a techie wouldn’t gape in confusion. I’m not all that worried about finding a job after college if I haven’t taken CS by graduation. And lastly, just because some majors don’t have as well defined a “track” leading to a career at one of a handful of big-name companies in the area does not mean I don’t have plans for my future or feel confident that I will be able to apply what I’m learning to something in the real world.
So coders, code away, but do so mindfully of your fuzzy peers – ask them what about their classes and what they think of them. Fuzzies, don’t be so put-off by CS; maybe next quarter, drop in on the first day just for kicks, even if you have no intentions of taking the commitment any further – just to see what all the hype is about. Let’s all develop a mutual respect, meet in the middle and rejoice in the sheer magnitude and diversity of incredible programs here at this school we all call home.