John Scalzi offers an excellent explanation of privilege through the conceit of a video game:
Okay: In the role playing game known as The Real World, “Straight White Male” is the lowest difficulty setting there is.
You can lose playing on the lowest difficulty setting. The lowest difficulty setting is still the easiest setting to win on. The player who plays on the “Gay Minority Female” setting? Hardcore.
Although I didn’t choose it, I’m lucky enough to be playing life on the easiest difficulty setting. Still, I’m trying to use the many starting points handed to me to explore new parts of the map where I’m not necessarily playing on the lowest difficulty setting. Hopefully, this can help me to make other difficulty settings a little less hard, with the side effect of making a pretty easy game a little more fun.
This excellent explanation was recommended by Jason Kottke.
This fall, I will fly halfway across the globe to attend college as a member of the third graduating class of NYU Abu Dhabi. This is a choice which neither my friends nor family could have predicted, and not just because the college was only opened two years ago. Yet, here I am: choosing the road less travelled which not even I could have envisioned myself on a year ago. I’ll be turning down offers from some of the most well-know and well-established universities in the world, and not for financial reasons. Rather, I am choosing to seize the reigns of my own education and embark on an adventure across the globe.
Culture and its Consequences
This decision was, in fact, significantly influenced by my visit to Dartmouth, my other top choice. It probably represents the apotheosis of an American college education: on a beautiful New England campus,1 highly intelligent students talk and learn from world-class faculty. Assured of a job post-graduation by the extensive alumni network, Dartmouth students are free to enjoy their life in a Hanover bubble. NYUAD lacks most of these features—it has no alumni to speak of and the academic program is still taking shape—but it also lacks two things which made the difference for me:
- Demographic gravity and
- Institutional inertia
Gravity & Grounding
To elaborate on my first physical fear,2 at Dartmouth you feel an overwhelming center of gravity. White, upper middle class Americans dominate the social atmosphere of the school, and even those who don’t come from that background feel a certain pressure to adopt its cultural norms.3 As a member of that demographic group, it would be all too easy to blend into the crowd, join a fraternity, maintain my current worldview, and graduate—possibly with a drinking problem. However, having attended international school for the past two years, I don’t want things to be that easy. I would miss the thrill of constantly reassessing my place in the world through the lenses of friends from dozens of countries.
Thankfully, as NYU president John Sexton is fond of pointing out, NYUAD lacks a center of gravity.
With no central demographic to revolve around, as the school’s 450 students hail from dozens of countries, students are constantly thrown into different cultural combinations and forced to adjust their norms accordingly. This ability to rapidly recalibrate in diverse cultures is expanded by opportunities for extensive study abroad—by graduation, I could have studied in upwards of five different countries. In an increasingly globalized world, I believe the opportunities for intensive internationalism which NYUAD affords will become increasingly valuable, even if I might begin to lose my cultural center.
Above: NYUAD students hail from all corners of the globe.
Inertia & Innovation
Although internationalism is certainly valuable to me, the sense of innovation at NYUAD is even more alluring. The centuries of history which our country’s greatest institutions point to as their strength is also their greatest weakness. With that history comes a tremendous amount of institutional inertia which makes substantive change and innovation highly challenging—just look at the difficulties Dartmouth faces in dealing with hazing. Yet, the modern era increasingly requires entrepreneurship and innovation in all sectors. As Carl Schramm emphasized in a lecture I attended at Dartmouth, academic institutions do not teach entrepreneurship properly or take it seriously,
instead emphasizing rigidity and channeling them into careers in established fields (especially Wall Street).
Of the universities which do focus on innovation, perhaps the most famous is Stanford. With its close connections to Silicon Valley, the university has a rich history of entrepreneurs emerging from its faculty and students. Thus, the curriculum and culture places a far greater emphasis on innovation than many of the great East Coast universities. While this is certainly admirable, in the process the university has perhaps lost its way as an educational institution, as a recent New Yorker article highlights. Close ties between the industry and the university
have become almost too close, with pragmatic innovation becoming the driving force of the university, rather than higher learning. In short, it seems that Stanford is simply allowing innovation in education.
In contrast, NYUAD is truly emphasizing innovation on education. The curriculum remains firmly rooted in a liberal arts core, including such non-utilitarian courses as Becoming Human. In concert with this liberal arts curriculum, significant educational innovations are encouraged, including pushing the power of technology while simultaneously recognizing the importance of place through study trips within the Middle East. Thus, NYUAD encourages innovation on the traditional liberal arts education in an interconnected world.
Students & Support
Of course, the students are responsible for much of this innovation. Starting a school from scratch, we are pioneering in developing its culture, clubs, and credentials. While this is truly exciting, it is only made possible through the support provided by such an intimate school. NYUAD students are truly given the resources to succeed. Some of this comes from the substantial funding and small classes (the student–faculty ratio is 3–1), but it is also driven by the mentality of everyone associated with the school. The school’s success is entirely contingent upon the success of its students, and with only 450 students every single one can receive the individualized attention necessary to succeed. In the process of making a decision, I have been treated with genuine care by everyone associated with the university, as have my future classmates. NYUAD has gone out of its way to ensure that I can make a well-informed choice, even offering to help coordinate with other college visits. As an example of their dedication to students, when my flight back from an accepted student event was cancelled, an admissions officer worked with me on his Sunday night (well past midnight) to ensure I was taken care of. In short, I truly feel that my individual needs and desires will be fully respected at NYUAD. Or, as John Sexton would likely put it, I’ll be loved.4
Right: The skyline of my future home
So, I am ready to embark on an adventure to the Middle East. But I choose NYUAD not for its generous financial aid, its small classes, or its location, but for the opportunity it presents: the chance to reimagine education.
But before I embark on a new adventure, I must wrap up my current one, which I will be hopefully reflecting on a little more now that classes have concluded. So, if you want to know about living with 200 students from 70+ nationalities in New Mexico, just ask.
People tend to write—and, thus, think—the most at the beginnings and endings of things. Whether that thing is a job, life, or education, the middle just isn’t that interesting. At the beginning, we are filled with excitement over the newness of the experience and anticipation for its possibilities. Bursting with enthusiasm, we are eager to share about our new experiences with anyone who will listen.
I’ve certainly seen this with posts by students at NYU-Abu Dhabi. They post prolifically in the early days, but eventually their frequency deteriorates due to the inverse correlation between life and sharing. Still, as I contemplate attending college across halfway across the globe their posts help to make the prospect less remote.
Thus, I hope that by renewing my writing here and cataloguing the memories of my last fiftyforty-four days at UWC-USA, I might be able to offer a similar resource to students (my zero-years!) contemplating this experience which I have lived and loved for the past two years.
Of course, writing here will also help me to reconcile that I have finally reached an ending. By reflecting on this amazing breakneck experience of the past two years, I hope to gain some insight into how exactly it has impacted me and where I see myself going from here. Hopefully, this might even help me to decide where to attend university.
I thus promise to be an endblogger, posting regularly on the resolution of my life and investigating the future through pontifications on the past.
Also, please excuse the current state of the blog. I actually wrote this post several days ago, but got sidetracked with trying to restore the previous technically-advanced site. Failing that, I’m shipping my writing with this minimum viable product until I find the time to make the blog beautiful again.
If you really want to know why the financial system nearly collapsed in the fall of 2008, I can tell you in one simple sentence…
That sentence, paraphrased: smart people started working on Wall Street. For most of its existence, Wall Street was mundane, run by Ivy League jocks with old money. It wasn’t run by idiots, but it also wasn’t run by geniuses. Then, with the rise in college costs and Wall Street income, truly smart people started showing up—the kind of people who would otherwise be doing precedent-setting legal work or breakthrough physics research. These geniuses weren’t content with the easy wealth old Wall Street afforded—they wanted to experiment, they wanted to use their tremendous brainpower. And if they made boatloads of money in the process, that was just an added bonus.
The problem came when all that complicated math started collapsing under the weight of excessive greed and ignorant bosses.1 An already complex global financial system become a tangled web of math which eventually unraveled. Some things, particularly economic and physical infrastructures, are best run by conservatively intelligent people who won’t experiment. I don’t want a genius doing my plumbing and I don’t want one doing my taxes.
This excellent Op-Ed from the New York Times was recommended by Jason Kottke.
What follows is a poorly written exposition of my recent activity. If you’re not in the mood for self-congratulatory bullshit, here’s the gist: I made morgante.net. It’s cool. It’s me.
I made myself last month. Rather, I made the online version of myself: morgante.net. I’d been meaning to do this for months, but #sitesprint finally gave me the motivation to do so.
Before doing so, I created numerous designs, from the gaudy to the overly-subdued. One was entirely primary colors, another was pure black-and-white. With respect to the design, I feel I’ve reached the ideal equilibrium with respect to the Goldilocks Principle: interesting, but not garish.
As my online home on the web, it of course links to all my profiles on various sites (I have too many). Most notably, I’ve added a link to Lemnos, my lab. Its name comes from the island upon which the great engineer-god Hephaestus wrought his creations. Within the lab are all my various technical projects. Its powered by Habari and a plugin of my own devising. The project pages are almost entirely automated: metadata is extracted from the plugin source, downloads are built from the subversion repository, and support is powered by the Habari Forums. Overall, I’m quite satisfied with the result.
Back on my hub, I did my best to keep things jovial. Building a website entirely devoted to myself is inherently rather pompous, so I was sure to have a healthy dose of self-mockery. The about page is a tongue-in-cheek tale of my life, while the Twitter widget in the sidebar features my occasionally whimsical wordplay. Meanwhile, the contact page is fully AJAXified, using my AlienContact plugin.
In the future, I plan to have a fully integrated lifesteam, à la Sweetcron. It will have all my activity from various places around the web, in addition to random life achievement bits: school awards, projects I start, etc. — the idea is that I will be able to programmatically generate a resume from the data. Though I currently have something similar here, I would like to eliminate a lot of the superfluous material from Newy Ancient and move it to my hub. The next iteration of my blog will put my best content up front, while also integrating newer (short) link posts.
Stay tuned for more exciting things as I finally get some priorities straightened out. My goal is to write at least one article a week, when the hellish load of AP English allows it.

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