Randy Pausch

I happened to be on Youtube a while back, and saw that there was a section devoted to commencement speeches, where Randy Pausch’s video was featured. I can’t believe it has been almost a year since he passed. I can’t believe that he passed.

I watched his last lecture soon after I had graduated from college. My brother had insisted that I see it, and he is usually not one for sweeping oratory. Randy Pausch did not look like he was dying, though all those present, and all those watching knew that he was. Not once did he pity himself, or bemoan his situation, even as his death grew steadily within him. His speech was peppered with grace, humor, and a perspective that one would not expect from cancer patients, let alone people who have ever been so much as slighted by fate.

He spoke eloquently of achieving his own childhood dreams, and helping others to achieve theirs. It’s one of those topics that, context notwithstanding, is beautiful and inspirational. Yet it takes on a whole new level of poignancy when one takes into account Pausch’s backstory, the “elephant in the room” as he referred to it (terminal pancreatic cancer). On a slight sidenote, and perhaps this is a gross generalization, but in the few weeks that I have worked in clinical cancer research, I have found such inspiration in the patients I have been lucky enough to hear about or perhaps even talk to. Their perspective, in many cases, is so pure and so positive. Perhaps it’s the specter of death that causes us to review our views on life, and find something positive to keep us (and those we love) going.

I remember coming into the hospital one day, having walked a few blocks in the pouring rain. I ended up being locked out of my office, and decided to wait in the waiting room. There was one other woman there, who was a patient. She smiled at me and asked me how I was doing. I responded, “Fine…but I wish the weather was better!”

“No no,” she said, “I love this weather.”

“Why?”

“Well,” she started, “it’s almost as if the city is being cleansed fully.” She smiled. “There is a smell in the city, that no amount of cleaning we do can take away. Yet when the rain comes down and washes the streets, it smells so fresh and clean afterward. That’s why I love it.”

I can’t look at storms with the same, negative view again.

Randy Pausch inspired me similarly. As many of you know, whether because you know me, or because you have read my posts, I really want to become a doctor. What you probably also know is that it has been a ridiculously uphill battle. In his speech, he spoke of brick walls. Brick walls, he said, were there to test how badly you really wanted something. Your propensity for breaking down the brick wall was correlated to the strength of your dream. I have made some progress with my own brick wall, but there is still more work to be done. I’ll see how it plays out.

There are a few other things that stuck that I have been able to relate to my own life. For one thing, he strongly advises his audience to never lose that child-like wonder. It’s absolutely true. If you do, you just get caught up in the tide, and in the humdrum passing of the days, where everything is just shades of gray. I think, oftentimes, it is the curse of adulthood, once we step outside of our colleges into the real world. Life threatens to be the same old story, everyday. It’s important, though, to find excitement in even the smallest, most seemingly mundane things. Even on my commute, I find myself staring out the window, trying to pick up on this and that that flies by as we head to Penn (or head home), or just let my mind run a little wild, contemplating this and that. Everything has the potential to be amazing, it’s just a question of how we approach it. If I find myself getting swept away, I just have to remember Randy Pausch, and how he was able to see everything in a new, awe-inspiring way

Helping others and doing the right thing seem to be things that we should be adhering to, but it’s surprising how many people drop the ball. Karma is something I strongly believe in, though that’s not the only reason one should do the right thing. It’s a question of the act itself, not the rewards it may potentially bring.

Ultimately the one thing that really touched me from his last lecture is the premise of putting others before yourself. He demonstrated that visibly by leading the entire audience in singing happy birthday to his wife. Yet even in day to day things, we can put the needs of others above our own. Humans are social beings, to deny our connection to other people, and to subvert that connection for our own gain does go against what it means to be human. Sure, we do have to look out for ourselves on occasion (otherwise we ultimately perish, literally or figuratively) but in serving others, we become better people.

Part of me wants to think Randy Pausch was, in a sense, enlightened all along. He seemed to conduct his life with a strong awareness of what he expected of life, and what life expected of him. Part of me thinks that his fight with cancer hastened the enlightenment process. Perhaps it was a little of both. He was certainly an extraordinary man, who led an extraordinary life, yet maintained a sense of humility that most people in his position fail to have.

It’s unfortunate that those who are truly an inspiration to humanity inevitably end up being taken away from us too soon. It is fortunate, however, that we have the means to immortalize those people and the wisdom that they preach. Indeed, the video of the last lecture has 10 million or so views. I’ve personally watched it twice, and I cried both times. It wasn’t really so much the inevitability of his death, but the manner in which he handled it that so moved me. He smiled, joked, laughed, and reminisced, even treating his impending death light-heartedly. Cancer wasn’t an end, it was a beginning.

It is partly because of Randy Pausch that I still dare to dream, even if the dream seems walled off by brick walls. Like he said, brick walls are there to test the strength of our resolve, and our devotion to the dream. Nothing is ever impossible, as he demonstrates by admitting that he was not accepted to Carnegie Mellon for graduate school. However, he was persistent, and eventually ended up going. As the 1st anniversary of his death approaches, I hope that new people, as well as people who have already seen the video, become inspired by the wisdom he so willingly gave.

Here is the video, for those who haven’t seen it, and those who want to see it again: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ji5_MqicxSo

Shout out to Project Remix

I first heard about Project Remix last year–or at least the collection of nascent ideas that would eventually become Remix–from one of the creators, who is also a good friend of mine. I was immediately sold on the idea, which was to create a site that provided resources and information to Desi (South-Asian) youth. A site created by the Indian youth for the Indian youth.

The official site launched recently, though it had already started generating buzz among our peers when it had made its first foray into the collective consciousness. Currently there are sections for cuts, cultural media, and articles. The cuts feature mixes used by various student groups and collegiate dance teams (bhangra, raas, Indian fusion, etc.) from across the country. Cultural media highlights video performances from various collegiate groups. The articles on Project Remix have been broken down into smaller categories and initiatives, devoted to everything from the arts to sports (currently I’m contributing to Team Innovate’s Neurobio series so be sure to check that out!). Examples of articles currently up on the website include my neurobio piece (an overview of neuroscience), a two-part series on biofuels, a review of Slumdog Millionaire, and a piece recounting a trip to Chennai to volunteer.

Project Remix is seeking new, fresh voices that can contribute to the site in any capacity. If you are a writer or blogger who is interested in appearing on the website, you can email projectremixny at gmail dot com. For any other questions, you can also send an email to the aforementioned address. The website is http://www.projectremix.org.

In addition, you can follow Project Remix on Twitter @ProjectRemix for updates.

Has the Medical Profession Become Any Kinder to Women?

Women doctors have made amazing strides in the field, where only half a century earlier, it was almost exclusively dominated by men. Yet while the doors have opened to women doctors in most aspects, there is one notable exception: motherhood.

My favorite story of women breaking into this, male-dominated field is the one of Agnodice, who disguised herself as a man so that she could study medicine in ancient Greece. Many girls want to grow up to be both well-regarded doctors and wonderful mothers, but it seems that for the most part, they can’t have their cake and eat it too. Men can enter whatever field they want with little consequence, women must make sacrifices. I acknowledge that this seems to be changing, but the pace is still painfully slow.

To paraphrase a professor of mine, the world is still cruel to women. They are encouraged to pursue their career and focus on it with razor sharp focus, while their biological clocks tick away, independent of any aspirations they may develop down the road to start a family. Once the residency and fellowship parade is over (as the case were for aspiring doctors), and a woman is ready to start a family, it may already be too late. I’m all for women being driven and seizing life by the horns, but sometimes the cost is pretty great.

And then, there is me and those like me, who are from immigrant families who insist upon marriage and having at least the first child before age 30. If I am lucky, I will enter medical school at 24, take four years, and enter whatever specialty I can. Depending on what specialty that is, the years devoted to residencies and fellowships may be as low as 3 or as high as 6-7. People can say “Rebel! Blaze your own trail, do what you need to do to get what you want.” Yet in cultures where filial piety is prized and expected, it is far harder to go against the grain, even when your own wishes may be at stake. How does one reconcile cultural and societal obligations with the rigors of medical school/further training?

From what I can gather (and please correct me if I’m wrong) but several residencies tend to not look kindly on women who are pregnant or who have very young children. Each specialty requires a certain number of years of training. It makes sense, of course, that the more high-stakes residencies (for example neurosurgery) would probably require more time to train physicians in that field. Obviously I’d want my neurosurgeon (heaven forbid that I need one) to have had rigorous training. Yet there are 194 certified women neurosurgeons, out of something like 3000 neurosurgeons in total in the U.S. The difference between those numbers is alarming. It’s enough to discourage most women from even entertaining the idea of going down that road, but I’m not like most women. Many women seem to end up vying for the more “family-friendly” positions like family physician or pediatrician, or at least ones that finish up training quickly.

I am not one of those people, I’m aiming for one of the neuro residencies (neurosurgery if I can help it).* I love the complicated nature of the field, and yes, I love the potentially maddening level of stress that’s involved. It’s a field I greatly respect and I want to be a part of, but could potentially be turned away because I want to devote the same kind of attention to my family.

I went to a seminar being conducted at SUNY Downstate, giving advice for medical students as to when they should get married and start families. Literally, the window of opportunity was a few months at best for both, where the birth of a child could potentially set students back a year. Clearly under these restrictions, days-long, traditional Indian weddings are out the window. If I were to get pregnant year 3 or 4, that could be potentially problematic, whereas the first two years were a bit better (but by no means ideal). Heaven forbid you wanted to take care of your child until they were at least more communicative or mobile, and when their fear of strangers was under control (Piagetian child psychology sets this at around 2 years of age). Then perhaps the babysitter could be introduced, if you don’t mind having a babysitter or nanny (I do mind). Children are for many people, a vital part of their lives, and they have the right to get as much time early on with their parents as they can. Yet as far as I can tell, the policy seems to be to leave everything to after you start practicing. That’s great for some people, but others are (still) bound by age-old traditions and (sometimes antiquated though biologically sound) cultural expectations regarding marriage and childbirth.

Hopefully, the domination by men that still seems to be inherent will continue to be addressed, and will encourage more women to live their lives a bit more easily while pursuing their dreams. If any women doctors come across this, I’d love to hear your perspective, given that mine is pretty limited.

*This is all contingent on my getting into medical school. I’m not going to crow about medicine without putting in that little point in there, I’m not in medical school yet. Hopefully I will be soon, gotta take it one step at a time. Even contemplating residencies is a long way off, but it can’t hurt to start contemplating a little now!

Why Neuroscience is Awesome

For those of you who know me know that I am, simply put, neuro-obsessed. Here’s where I try to justify that.

Think about the human body and how incredibly complex it is. Think of all the chemicals that course through your bloodstream to regulate this organ or that, that allow you to grow and mature. Think of the electrical and structural precision that is needed to keep your heartbeat normal. Think of the myriad events that go on to maintain normal digestion even when you are unaware that it is going on.

Now think of the brain and think of the fact that it regulates all of it. A three-pound (give or take a few ounces), gelatinous and convoluted mass of neural tissue sitting comfortably in your cranium regulates all of it. I think that’s pretty cool, right?

Consider this a kind of (grossly simplified) neuroscience primer from someone who has neither an M.D. nor Ph.D (so take it for what it’s worth).

Thank you Keith Olbermann

Thank you for upholding the integrity and honor that comes with going to Cornell, no matter which part of Cornell. I was in Human Ecology, you were in Agriculture and Life Sciences. Our paying less money per semester does not make us any less of a Cornellian, or any less of an Ivy Leaguer.

I was not aware of Ann Coulter’s comments about your Cornell education, deeming it “the land-grant, non-Ivy League school…” (for those who want to see the full article, go to her website) For the record, Ann Coulter is my least favorite Cornell alum–if the word “favorite” can even be used reasonably to describe her in any regard (like describing a favorite illness?)–falling well below even the oft-maligned Paul Wolfowitz. She is a disgrace to the University, not for her Republican views but for her small-minded approach to the problems that plague our society. She does not consider the other side, it’s her way, or the highway.

Cornell University seeks to promote intelligent dialogue among people from different views (which is the case with most universities I suppose). At Cornell, the Cornell Review and Turn Left (right-wing and left-wing publications, respectively) coexist relatively peacefully. We have a thriving religious works department, and discussion is always encouraged among the different religious groups. Ms. Coulter, meanwhile, killed two birds with one stone in an interview with Beliefnet, by calling liberals “godless” and claiming churches that don’t agree with her “are called mosques.”

I’m not one to be blunt about things, but I’ll make an exception this time. I don’t like her, I think most people who know me are well aware of that (and I think it’s fair so say if she knew me, she wouldn’t like me either, so it’s mutual). I don’t usually complain about the incessant nonsense that seems to emanate from her on a daily basis. Yet hearing this just rubbed me the wrong way.

I am a Cornell graduate. I am not any less qualified than any of my friends from Arts and Sciences, Engineering, Art, Architecture, and Planning, or the School of Hotel Administration. I took most of my classes in Arts and Sciences, since I was pre-med, and the chemistry and physics classes were only offered in Arts. Most of my Cornell career was spent in either Baker or Rockefeller. My freshman writing seminars were in Arts. Some of my humanities requirements were also in Arts. The rest was in Ag or Hum Ec (oh and one elective cross-listed in Engineering). What was the difference between my education and someone in one of the privately-endowed schools? I paid less for my education. I’m a New York State resident, and I went to the College of Human Ecology. In-state residents get a break, something that is definitely not unique to Cornell. Yes I got my Cornell degree, which is proudly sitting on the mantel of my fireplace, at a graduation ceremony where other graduates from all the Cornell colleges were present. We heard the same speech by President Skorton, we sat in front of the same, proud collection of college deans, we all sang the “alma mater.” My state-side college peers and I just did it for around half of what the rest of them paid. Big deal. I am no less of a Cornellian than anyone else, past, present, or future.

So thank you Keith for standing up for the rest of the Cornellians from Ag, Hum Ec, and ILR.

I’m calling on all Cornell alumnae (and all current Cornellians) to email Ann Coulter expressing your feelings. I don’t care what college you’re from, but stand up for your status as a Cornell alum, regardless of which college you’re from. We’re all Cornellians at the end of the day. Ultimately, that’s all that matters.

The Recession: Saroj

There is a Duane Reade (New York’s Walgreens or CVS equivalent) that we normally go to, not too far from my house. There used to be a small, high-end grocery and delicatessen right next door. It seemed, from the time it opened, that it had a pretty large following, so its closing about a year and a half ago was a bit unexpected. In that area, there tends to be a high turnover of stores and small restaurants, so I figured something new would take its place soon enough. Today, the space still has not been filled. I think that’s probably when I first started to get scared.

I think I’ve railed against Long Island a lot, when it comes to their feeling of invincibility owing to the region’s staggering wealth (with some exceptions). Three years ago, I rode on the LIRR through the whole summer, and the conversations among other passengers were mostly monotonous, vapid, or sometimes (on those rare occasions) riotously funny. Now, some of that conversation has turned somber, speculative, and almost scared (don’t get me wrong, there are still those who manage to carry on the vapid and stupid conversations in spite of anything else). I’m seeing large sales and discounts popping up to lure uncertain buyers. New York/Long Island mainstays (like Fortunoff and Steve and Barry’s) have filed for bankruptcy, and both are (or have completed) the process of liquidation. At the supermarket, the number of people using coupons seems to have increased exponentially. Even big-wig restaurant owners and chefs in the city (Mario Batali et. al.) have started to introduce special discounts at their restaurants that were normally only accessible to a select few with deep pockets (though I think the discounts were only through Restaurant Week, I don’t know about now).

On the other end of the spectrum, though, things like train fares (both commuter and subway) have been poised to increase over the next few months (I believe June is when the MTA is hiking up subway fares), making a more environmentally-sound (and sometimes, cost-effective) form of transportation more expensive. Schools are (still) hiking tuition costs at a rate that’s outpacing inflation (hooray for debt!), though some are increasing their financial aid packages in light of the fact that people are less likely to be able to pay for further education now than perhaps a few years ago.

So essentially I’m stuck in a slightly confused world where some are lowering costs, and others are increasing costs, and I’m struggling to keep whatever little money I have on my person. I try to cut down the amount of coffee I consume outside (such a hard habit to break) the number of times I eat out (another hard habit to break), and the number of times I have to go into the city, trying to plan my trips around off-peak hours for the sake of my wallet (though sometimes traveling at peak hours is unavoidable).

I was riding into the city on one of the Babylon LIRR trains and was listening to a conversation the two men sitting in front of me were having. They were speaking in hushed tones about how, given the state of affairs, crime was very likely to rise in the area. It was a rehashing of a similar conversation I had with my father. As much as I’d like to think that they are being incredibly paranoid, they’re all probably right.

Whenever I leave Penn Station, I walk out and make my way to Herald Square so I can catch the R or W to NYU. For the last couple of weeks, I’ve noticed that there is always one wheelchair-bound hobo at the corner of 34th and 7th uttering the same thing, over and over again. “Guys, can ya please help me get som’in ta’ eat?” Hobos are as part of the city as the Empire State Building and Times Square, but generally I never saw many, at least on the route I normally take through the city. Now–perhaps because there are more or because I’m taking greater notice of them–I have seen an increase in the number of hobos and street performers. At that corner just outside of Penn Station, I have seen on some days, two other wheelchair-bound hobos patrolling that intersection, hoping someone will give them something. The West 4th Station has seen an increase in performers who, sometimes, go to great lengths to attract attention (a full jazz band and a guy playing on a regular piano, for starters). The worst I have seen (at least to me) in recent weeks are the rise of teenage (or perhaps younger) street performers. On the F, I have seen on at least two occasions, a group of kids who breakdance on the moving train for money. I can’t deny that it’s entertaining, but I mean, they’re kids! I don’t know if this was their own choice, or their parents or friends put them up to this, but God forbid one of them fell and broke their neck…

Yet getting back to crime, in desperate times, desperate people will make desperate moves. More people are being driven into poverty, some ending up on the streets. It’s almost understandable that crime would be the next step. I don’t know if I can ever entirely trust the media coverage of local crimes, since it seems like crime activity in an area is always inflated for sensationalist value, but I guess it’s better to be safe than sorry. Usually, when I’m walking to and from the subway, I try to walk with someone. It’s not a terribly long walk, so I don’t mind walking alone sometimes, and usually the streets are very well-lit and well-trafficked. However, I have considered buying pepper spray, just in case I do end up staying later (for class, studying, or just in general), when the streets become less crowded. I’m not exactly a formidable figure, at 5′1″.

So at least here in the Long Island/NYC area, the recession has been moving in like a fog through empty streets, slowly and steadily. I suppose there’s no way to predict where this will take us, absolutely, but I hope that this will only be a temporary situation and that an upturn will start within the next few months. I can only hope.

The Death of Cursive Writing

This article in Newsweek made me incredibly depressed:

http://www.newsweek.com/id/184751

I was probably one of the few kids that enjoyed (and still do enjoy) writing in cursive. I loved how cursive writing was flowing and graceful. I even joined the calligraphy club in my middle school to further my penmanship, learning a few forms of calligraphy before graduating. Regular letters are all lines and edges, there is nothing beautiful about them, and frankly when I can, I avoid writing in print to this day. Yes, I am one of this people that wrote in script on the SAT.

Just for that, I’m writing the rest of this post in cursive. Let me know if you can’t read some or all of it.

No Welcoming Open Arms For Us

I spent most of my formative years in the nurturing cocoon of the Clinton administration. I was vaguely aware of Bush 41, but the first president I chose (in my head) was Clinton, so he was really my president. I didn’t really know what war was. I had heard of the first Gulf War, but it seemed less a war, more a way to keep a madman at bay. I knew something of Bosnia and Serbia, but these were minor engagements (especially compared to what we’re involved in now). All I was aware of was economic excess and of prosperity. I assumed that everything always came easily, not necessarily without work, but without worry. I realize now that I was wrong to assume. This is not to say Bush 43 is entirely at fault, or that Clinton is blameless. There were mistakes being made everywhere, on Capitol Hill, on Wall Street, in banks, and in our own living rooms. Now the fruits have been borne from our mindless sins of ignorance.

I was talking to a sixth grader I tutor yesterday and we ended up discussing various things. At one point, she asked me about medicine and how long it takes to become a doctor. I laughed and went through the whole spiel. I told her that if she doesn’t take any breaks in between, she’ll probably be in her late twenties by the time she starts working. It was the truth; the road to becoming a doctor is a long, winding, pothole-ridden road. She sighed before declaring the world was probably going to end before then. I was taken a little aback by her pointedly frank pessimism, especially given her age. Pessimism wasn’t supposed to kick in until at least the angst-ridden teen years. Yet as I thought about it more, I realized she was right to assume, and right to worry. We have become conditioned to fear.

I’m not saying the world is going to end. Obviously that’s not what I’m saying. What I’m saying is that the smooth sailing we have had for the last decade or so has come to an end in the most unceremonious and clumsy fashion possible. Gone are the times when wide-eyed, college graduates can expect a job waiting for them within months after their graduation, followed by buying their first home, setting up their children’s trust fund, and letting their 401(k)s bloat with money. Employers no longer are waiting at the end of the college road with open arms and a fat paycheck. Instead we are seeing college grads moving back with their parents, as they wait and wait for employers to come calling. Over 2.6 million jobs were lost in 2008, and the number continues to grow. As the economy shrinks, states are now cutting spending in places that could have drastic consequences (like Paterson cutting hospital spending in New York State in a time where healthcare is suffering). Again I used to assume that doctors were at least a little immune to economic crises; after all, there’s always a need for doctors right? Yet when hospitals can’t afford to take on new doctors, and when people can’t afford to get healthcare, even doctors are finding it difficult to find work. There is no real certainty in the current economic climate, and the possible ramifications are frightening.

As I was buying my ticket to Penn Station from my home station, I saw a man who asked me for a buck or two towards a train ticket. This wasn’t your typical bum though, and this wasn’t the city. This was Long Island. He looked like any other Joe Schmo who lived on Long Island. Maybe I’m naive to have even entertained the idea that Long Island was somehow, immune, from the economic downturn. I can’t help but think that the number of people booted onto the streets will increase as the economy continues to sink.

Many of you must be reading this and thinking, “She is such a pessimist” and “This is so depressing.” It’s the truth. No one wants to envision a world where we have to be fearful for our livelihood as well as for our lives. Certainly we don’t want that for ourselves, and we definitely don’t want that for our children. We want our children to know that they can do anything they want, with little worry, assuming they put in the effort. Yet it’s something to keep in the back of your mind. To continue assuming that everything is perfectly peachy is a sign of sure insanity.

Yet to those that say, “Why bother doing anything if we’re just destined for a rough road to employment in the end?” the point is not to give up, the point is to work harder. Employers (presumably) will favor the more qualified candidates over the guy or girl who just scraped through with a bachelors degree. Go for the unpaid internships to get your foot in the door. Network as much as you can, a resume and transcript can only tell so much about a person. Do whatever you can, short of stepping on another guy’s toes.

We’ll have to make some changes to the way we conduct our lives now. We can’t continue the same wasteful practices that landed us here in the first place. We can’t allow the market to operate of its own volition. We need strict regulations to rein everything back to some sort of stable state. It’s important to note that all situations are temporary, good times, and bad. I’m just hoping that, for the time being, the stimulus plan passed by Congress will have its intended effect sooner rather than later.

Until then, we have to work hard and stay positive. This, too, shall pass.

Another New Year

I can’t say 2008 was a bad year. It could have been better, but that goes for any year I suppose. Graduated from Cornell (ok fine that was 2007 technically, but it’s January 2008 for all intents and purposes), started my masters (make that two masters), and met new people. Things seem to be heading in the right direction, in terms of school, family, friends, and other areas. So far so good.

So New Year’s Eve is around the corner. You know what that means? That’s right, more New Year’s resolutions. The end of the year means self-reflection and planning the upcoming year to be the best it can be. Whether this means losing weight or ending a bad habit, everyone has their own set of goals.

The person with the hardest set of resolutions is probably Barack Obama. Here’s my theoretical list of resolutions:
1. Save the world, or at least make strides in that direction.
2. Quit smoking
3. Keep sane despite existing in the bubble that is the Presidency, Secret Service and all.

Mine are pretty average, the get into shape, find (and maybe end up with) a great guy, do well in classes-sort of resolutions. There are a few that may be a little more out of the ordinary:

1. Get a book deal.
2. Get into medical school.

Will one or any of those things happen? I don’t know. Wishful thinking perhaps, but hopefully a few of those will work out.

I’m curious what the most popular New Year’s resolution is among people. What is your top resolution for 2009?

To all of you, friends I have known all along, friends I have gotten to know through blogging, and the readers who may have just stumbled here today, I want to wish you a happy, peaceful, and prosperous New Year. Here’s to another year of new beginnings and new possibilities.

The Emerging Facebook Culture

I’ve wanted to write this one for a while, considering how I’m the self-proclaimed Facebook addict.

I started using Facebook back when Facebook was open only to the Ivy League universities, and maybe a few more outside of that (this was maybe around May 2004). I wasn’t really into the whole MySpace scene, and this seemed like a clean-cut version of MySpace. It also was a more organized version of Cornell’s attempt at uniting our incoming class of 2008. Back then, Facebook was relatively simple. You had a profile, a friend’s list, inbox, and the poking feature. Beyond that, there wasn’t really a whole lot.

Oh how times have changed.

Now Facebook is no longer restricted to university students, or even just to students. Everyone is on Facebook. Yes your little brother, your neighbor from down the road, perhaps even your parents–they all have profiles. Facebook has grown and morphed into this social-networking juggernaut that keeps changing to meet the demands of the public. There are very few people nowadays who don’t know what Facebook is.

Facebook has become its own cultural phenomenon. It comes with its own set of social norms. You don’t believe me? There is a whole set of connotations that can be associated with, say, a poke. If a girl pokes a guy, or a guy pokes a girl, it can be viewed as flirtatious. If friends poke each other, it’s more a sign that they’re both silly and very bored. A person you don’t know who pokes you is viewed as creepy. I can probably create a hundred other scenarios that center on a poke. The same goes for messages, wall posts, and other modes of communicating that Facebook provides.

You can probably categorize people into a host of loose categories based on their Facebook habits. There are those who friend everyone, accept all friend requests, join every group, and add every application. They are probably better off on MySpace. Then there are those who do…nothing. They are probably better off not creating a profile to begin with. Then there are those who fall somewhere along that spectrum. There are those who probably have lives and occasionally update their Facebook profile, and don’t necessarily seek out new friendships, but keep the ones they have alive through Facebook. Then there are those (like me) who tend to go on Facebook often more to utilize it for a specific purpose (like plugging my blog and keeping in touch with friends). The possibilities are endless.

Facebook has even begun to serve as a method for finding potential dates, and that too, comes with its own set of unspoken rules. It’s no surprise that it is being used that way. One’s profile has (usually) all the information a person needs to learn about another person enough to decide whether or not it’s worth getting to know them better. Yet sometimes, actually opening the channel of communication through Facebook whether through a message, poke, friend request, or other method can be viewed very differently between different people. I tend to overextend my definition of creepy to cover a whole set of possible actions on Facebook, but that’s also because I’m very cautious by nature. These include the compliments about photos, pokes, and random friend requests. I have only now begun to realize that sometimes, it’s not so much that people are creepy, and it could be explained by the fact that they are perhaps shy. Sometimes you have to give people the benefit of the doubt, but in the context of the Internet, sometimes it is better to exercise caution. Many do actually turn out to be very creepy.

Now that Facebook is open to everyone, there are legitimate concerns about privacy. Parents are using this as a means of keeping tabs on their children, while employers and graduate schools are using it as a means of investigating their applicants’ private lives (with special attention to partying, drinking, and drug use). Facebook has become the new Big Brother, in that regard. It’s legitimate that it would be used in that sense, it is a useful tool that way. Obviously the first thing to do is either a) stop drinking to the point of stupidity b) stop underage drinking and c) stop drug use, but really that’s just wishful thinking. So I guess the best thing to do is don’t put up pictures that portray you in an unfavorable light. While sure, you may have had fun at that frat party, house party, or bar, you don’t necessarily want that to ruin your chances at a great future or ruin your parents’ trust. I can understand employers using Facebook to assess applicants, but seriously, parents shouldn’t be so eager to make a profile to spy on their children. For the most part, we know what we’re doing, and sometimes we may stumble…but we can pick ourselves up. Just have a little faith.

Facebook has become a tool for reporters, celebrities, and musicians to gain fans and keep them up to date on various happenings. I can be informed when Nicholas Kristof writes a new column or blog post, or when the date for the start of a new season of Monk, Heroes, or House is announced. I think its fair to say that Facebook is slowly supplanting MySpace as the social networking site of choice, for both regular Joes and celebrities alike.

It seems that Facebook is probably here to stay, much like AIM, as a novel method of communication and networking. I’m curious to see how it will evolve to meet changing times and changing generations. Hopefully it will all be for the best.

I’m going to leave you with two videos relating to Facebook. The first is Penn Masala’s homage to Facebook, and is a parody of Enrique Iglesias’ “Hero.”

The second is a brilliant video that takes Facebook actions and looks at what would happen if we did those things in real life.