During my PhD at MIT my girlfriend asked me how I thought I would feel about those years in the future. I said relieved that it was over, as, although I loved everything about the place, I felt constant pressure. She knew me better than I knew myself, it seems, as it was obvious to her that I would in fact long to be able to return to that time. I'm sure part of the longing is just due to the fact that I was in my 20s, living in my own nice on-campus apartment, and was hopeful that I had a bright future. Many people probably have a longing to be 23 again for similar reasons. However I think that what makes the feeling especially strong for me is that being at MIT added a feeling of privilege to every day. It created a sense of fulfilment, that I had done everything right and had succeeded.<p>I don't think I could bear to visit now. The smell of the Infinite Corridor, the tunnels, Vassar Street, the Eastman Court trees in Autumn, or a warm summer evening by the Charles, would bring back memories that would be overwhelming.
"I was young, naive, and plagued by impostor syndrome. I held back instead of exploring more, engaging more deeply, and seeking out more challenges. I allowed myself to be carried along by the current, rather than actively charting my own course. Youth is wasted on the young."<p>This quote really captures how I felt during that time. I wasn't smart enough to get into MIT, but I spent a lot of time sitting in on the open lectures during 2004-2005. I remember meeting a few of their undergrads who wanted to start tech companies and always feeling like I didn't belong. And I may be misremembering things but it seemed like every pitch had to do with P2P.<p>Also, the first time I walked past those Frank Gehry buildings, I was awestruck. I just stood there for maybe 10 minutes looking up and down.
I spent my undergrad at MIT and I completely felt this way! I wish so dearly that I delayed my undergrad by at least a year and spent some time maturing. So many interesting and wonderful things I've missed out on from that place, simply because I was not mature enough to appreciate it.<p>If my child wants to go to MIT, I would strongly advise them to take a gap year.
> When you approach work with humility and curiosity, you learn more and participate more fully. Good collaborators value these qualities. A beginner’s mind is an asset. Staying close to your authentic self helps you find your true calling.<p>Love this.
I do feel nostalgic about my college, but realistically, I'd never be able to do it all over again. Once I looked at two pics of myself: full afro before college, and almost completely bald after college, and I immediately felt that this is the right way to describe that time.<p>But I have to say that I do miss interacting with people much smarter than myself. And the general atmosphere that great things await. I think it was very challenging time, but the belief in bright future allowed to push through. Now that I'm stuck in a pointless corporate job and it's dawning upon me that "this is it" and most of my life aspirations are not coming true, I can't help but feel helplessly pointless.
Our time there overlapped—I was a student of TimBL from 2004 to 2006, researching the Semantic Web initiative. CSAIL was, and still is, a truly magical place. I had the privilege of working alongside some of the greatest minds of our time: David Karger, Manolis Kellis, Regina Barzilay, et al an incredible assembly of brilliance.
> <i>Eric Demaine was on the same floor too. Once, I accidentally sent a long print job (a PhD thesis) to his office printer, and he was angry because of the wasted paper.</i><p>Because those sheets of paper could've been origami instead? :)
I did not go to MIT but spent my entire career in Boston startups and tech. It is impossible to overstate how influential CSAIL was (and is?) in addition to it sounding here like a wonderful place.
I feel similarly about my time at art school.<p>(It's the people. There is a deep humility in artists. A tolerance for uncertainty. A respect for mystery. It's rare.)<p>My naive self could have gotten more out of it.
I long for a space like this that I could spend some drop-in time at now (in my thirties and not looking to attend another full college degree program). If I could do one thing to reorganize society it would be to create a bunch of places like this with rich cultures of learning and collaboration that anyone could drop in on.<p>There was a decent technology meetup culture in the bay area pre-covid, but so many of the groups I enjoyed stopped around that time and never started back up again.
I started my affiliation with MIT in 1997 as a lecturer on eCommerce Architecture—a topic that felt both exciting and exotic back then, as the internet was just beginning to transform the world. Walking through those doors for the first time, I was immediately struck by the brilliance of the people around me. Virtually everyone I met seemed like the smartest person I’d ever encountered, and I couldn’t help but feel like an imposter at times. But that feeling also came with the thrill of being part of a community that constantly challenged and elevated me.<p>In 2007, I moved over to the Media Lab to focus on computational law, a field that thrives on MIT’s interdisciplinary ethos. Over the years, I’ve had the privilege of collaborating with CSAIL researchers from time to time. These experiences were always a blast—not just because of the cutting-edge research, but also because navigating the Frank Gehry-designed Stata Center was its own adventure. I loved spelunking through its quirky passageways, stumbling across obscure treasures like tucked-away whiteboards filled with half-finished equations or discovering yet another coffee machine in a corner I hadn’t visited before.<p>Since the pandemic, I’ve been living back in the Bay Area, so much of my MIT involvement is now remote. Yet even from a distance, I remain in awe of the people, ideas, and unrelenting creativity that define the Institute. Reading this reflection brought back so many memories—and a wave of nostalgia. It’s inspiring to see how others have experienced their time at MIT, and it makes me want to book a visit back to the campus just to soak it all in again. There’s something about MIT that stays with you, no matter how far away you are.
There are other places at MIT with a similar vibe. Media Lab springs to mind.<p>I took a class co-taught by TBL called Linked Data Ventures (6.898). There was an effort to seed a Semantic Web startup ecosystem with project teams formed in the class. IIRC one of the groups <i>did</i> get funded and was eventually acquired, but not using Semantic Web/Linked Data.<p>Regardless, it was an amazing experience having TBL review our little demo app.
> Why pretend to be smart and play it safe? True understanding is rare and hard-won, so why fake it until you are sure of it? Isn't it more advantageous to embrace your stupidity/ignorance and be underestimated?<p>Found this beautifully-phrased gem in the conclusion.<p>Be it in research or otherwise I'm sure so many can relate to this in their younger years.
Link seems to point to something else.<p>Actual link: <a href="https://muratbuffalo.blogspot.com/2025/02/my-time-at-mit.html" rel="nofollow">https://muratbuffalo.blogspot.com/2025/02/my-time-at-mit.htm...</a>
> Why pretend to be smart and play it safe? True understanding is rare and hard-won, so why claim it before you are sure of it? Isn't it more advantageous to embrace your stupidity/ignorance and be underestimated?<p>I wish this were true, and I do think this mindset would be optimal if everyone adopted it. Unfortunately, real workplaces are filled with people who are confident and wrong. As a leader, if your intuition is more accurate than your peers and you care about objective success, it’s important to assert yourself.
I wrote a blog about some of my experiences at the then-new MIT Media Lab in 1985. Unlike the experience of the author, I was more of a lone late-night hacker (in the old sense of the word).<p>Thread starts here:<p><a href="https://kaveh808.medium.com/from-arcmac-to-the-media-lab-22949fb51935" rel="nofollow">https://kaveh808.medium.com/from-arcmac-to-the-media-lab-229...</a>
There's sort of an interesting tension (not necessarily a contradiction though) in this piece between focus / prioritization and curiosity exploration. Both are valid, but I wonder how the author balances them today and how it's changed since their postdoc.<p>E.g. on the great example set by Nancy Lynch: "The way she worked with students was that she would dedicate herself solely on a student/paper for the duration of an entire week. That week, she would avoid thinking or listening other works/students, even when she wanted to participate."<p>Compared to their lessons learned: "Why pretend to be smart and play it safe? True understanding is rare and hard-won, so why claim it before you are sure of it? Isn't it more advantageous to embrace your stupidity/ignorance and be underestimated? In research and academia, success often goes not to the one who understands first, but to the one who understands best. Even when speed matters, the real advantage comes from the deep, foundational insights that lead there.<p>When you approach work with humility and curiosity, you learn more and participate more fully. Good collaborators value these qualities. A beginner’s mind is an asset."
>The way she worked with students was that she would dedicate herself solely on a student/paper for the duration of an entire week. That week, she would avoid thinking or listening other works/students, even when she wanted to participate.<p>Now we hear of academics (with their names on the papers) denying that they had anything to do with the work published, and at the same time the total fraud of academics with their names on 20+ papers a year.<p>Something has to give - and I think we all know what....