Lost and Found

Jeremi reflects on losing sight of—but finding—his north star; Luca looks for and finds American patriotism

Welcome back to Jeremi and Luca’s Newsletter, a weekly update brought to you by two friends on opposite ends of the country, connected by a relentless desire to learn.

The topics may seem random and disjointed (they are), but would it be fun otherwise? Either way, we promise each issue will be filled with insights, learnings, and updates, in what we hope is a good way to stay connected to friends and family.

In this seventh installment, enjoy Jeremi’s reflections on finding the bigger picture and Luca’s observations of patriotism in the United States.

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Jeremi: The Bigger Picture

At the beginning of this week, I planned to talk about the two projects I’ve been working on. And I want to tell you about them—but my perspective has shifted since then, and I want to talk about that perspective shift as well.

My first project is at Lawrence Livermore National Lab. My partner and I have a simple task: make querying a database really fast.

As you know, my internship is in Cluster Engineering (using a lot of computers in parallel). We’re essentially applying the concept of clustered compute to our project. Instead of just having one computer query the entire database, we split up the task among a bunch of different “workers” who each are tasked with querying a small section of the database.

The second project is something I’ve been working on with my spare time: using AI to teach a robot arm to pick stuff up.

It’s simpler (and not quite as cool) as it sounds. It’s a simulated virtual environment, where the robot knows its position, the position of the block, and the position of the “goal”, and moves the block to the goal. I’m implementing an algorithm that learns how to do this.

They’re cool projects! I’ve been enjoying them, and I know I’ll learn a lot from both. And yet, I’ve started to feel that I’m losing sight of the bigger picture. Two things are contributing to this feeling.

1.

I spent most of this July 4 vacation listening to Hamilton—don’t laugh at me—and feeling somewhat patriotic.

Even just listening to the soundtrack, I felt myself getting goosebumps. There’s something inspiring about the gravity of the situation that the founding fathers faced, and how their actions have echoed across history.

I had a slight internal longing to be part of something like that, to be able to help make history.

2.

I grabbed lunch with an LLNL engineer this week and asked them about their work. One thing that I found interesting was that they didn’t seem emotionally connected to their job. Sure, it was intellectually stimulating, and it had good benefits. But they didn’t derive meaning from the job.

I’m not criticizing this path at all. I think it’s valid to have a job that offers a good lifestyle, and then find meaning from things outside of work.

But, these two experiences clarified for me that this path is not the one I want to take.

I have intellectual interests that I want to follow. But more than that, I want to be part of something significant. I want my work to be contributing to something that shapes history. I want my job to be truly needed, and then I want to take pride in doing that job well.

These projects are interesting, and I’m going to see them through. But I don’t want to lose sight of the bigger picture.

At this point, I’m conflicted. Do I find meaningful, important work by actively seeking it out? Or do I follow my intellectual curiosity, and trust that I’ll stumble on to the work that is “meant for me”?

I think there is some value in just exploring things without expecting some incredible return from them. These projects don’t need to cause a chain of events that leads me exactly where I want to go. If I continue learning and enjoy that learning, it can do nothing but serve me.

Regardless, I want to center myself on this north star. Part of what this internship has taught me so far is that while intellectual curiosity in a job is positive, it’s not enough on its own. I want to feel that I’ve really made a difference.

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Luca: A Star-Spangled Banner

Since the age of eight, I’ve spent most summers celebrating the Fourth of July at camp in Maine—running the “4 on the Fourth” race in Bridgton, enjoying barbecue with friends, and watching fireworks explode over Long Lake.

I remember that as a kid, the seven-mile drive from camp to the race’s start line felt excruciatingly long. As I got older, what used to feel like an hour gradually became a short (and more realistic) 15 minutes. 

One thing about the drive, however, always remained the same. Each house we passed displayed some form of the American flag. Whether it was a bunting, a swarm of mini flags, or something more traditional, every single home sported a flag.

This stood out to me coming from the West Coast where American flags are much harder to come by. Patriotism in many of its most recognizable forms, for that matter, is scarce.¹

Here in D.C., of course, this contrast is similarly present, and I witnessed it from, arguably, the best spot possible: the steps of the Capitol where the president delivers his inaugural address. Closed off to the general public, I was lucky enough to join a group of congressional interns as one of their guests.

Our view of the National Mall from the Capitol Building

Along with over half a million people and maybe the same number of American flags across the National Mall, we enjoyed performances ranging from artists like Smokey Robinson to ensembles like the U.S. Army Band. The night concluded with spectacular fireworks over the Washington Monument. 

During that annual drive to Bridgton, Maine for a four-mile race on the Fourth of July, I always wondered why national pride is as seasonal as it is—why our flag is flown one day and taken down another—while the values it represents are meant to be cemented into the fabric of our society and its institutions.

The reason is plainly obvious. To many, the flag is not just a symbol for the ideas on which our nation was founded, but also a symbol for the history that lies in our wake.²

I am readily aware of the progress our country has yet to realize, but I am firm in my belief that the ideals and values that set us apart from every other nation in the world are something to be proud of, something for which to fly a flag.

On July 4, 1776, a unanimous declaration by the Thirteen Colonies advocated for “Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness,” timeless rights that have acted as a guiding force in much of our country’s history and construction.

To lose our patriotic spirit—to hang up our flags in disdain—is to turn our backs on those ideals. I long for a country that tolerates discourse, a country that finds compromise amid our greatest arguments, a country that is proud of what we can be rather than embarrassed over what we have been.

This past Thursday on our nation’s 248th birthday, outside of the Capitol Building where Republicans and Democrats fight tooth and nail over every issue imaginable, half a million Americans gathered under a flurry of fireworks to wave their flags and sing our national anthem.

And the rockets' red glare
The bombs bursting in air
Gave proof through the night
That our flag was still there

O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave

The rockets glowed red, the bombs burst in the air. Our star-spangled banner continued to fly over 500,000 Americans proud of the freedom and bravery the simple red, white, and blue flag represents.

The scene on the National Mall that night gave me hope that despite our differences, we can appreciate our common values and system of government that, while flawed, aid us in “the march of mankind.”

A simple idea sparked this incredible project less than 250 years ago; a humble but persistent pursuit of the idea is what will ensure its continued success.

"And the rockets' red glare / The bombs bursting in air"

1. An interesting WalletHub article ranks the patriotism of all 50 states based on military and civic engagement. Maine is #4 and California is #35.

2. A YouGov poll of 1,000 U.S. adult citizens measured views of various flags across demographics like age, race, and political affiliation.