Nobody tells you that everyone and their mothers reach out to you when you move to Florida. Moving to Orlando to work in the theme park industry is like bringing Krispy Kreme donuts to school in middle school or getting a puppy after you graduate: everyone suddenly wants to hang out and be your friend.

“If you lead your life the right way, the karma will take care of itself. The dreams will come to you.”

And so, as I have finished the experience that was my third semester of grad school and people’s top 10 lists crowd the internet as the year (not the decade, shoot me a text if you have any questions) comes to a close, here is my newest list of takeaways from a semester (and summer) that included making an interactive VR chair experience about flying horses, attempting to learn the difference between reactivity and interactivity, a week of non-stop happenings in Orlando and sampling every single food truck that stopped by the ETC.

I didn’t know a lot then. Not that I know a lot now, but still even less then. What I did know, though, was that I was about to chase the dream that I had been thinking about since the 6th grade. At that point, I may have known what , but I could have never guessed what would happen during a year of chasing it down.

Museums are about making history real (without Ben Stiller talking to a miniaturized Owen Wilson) and allowing people to connect to it in a meaningful way, something that is increasingly difficult when people strive to be connected to other things. 

I mention this because I’d be remiss to leave any sort of experience without determining a list of takeaways for said experience. For those morning drives to school, the takeaways were the sports highlights we could talk with our friends about. For me, today, on my last day of my second semester of grad school, the takeaways are about my favorite moments and insights from sixteen weeks of building an interactive museum exhibit, developing experiences with new technologies, learning more about leadership, and finding the best donuts in Pittsburgh.

This monologue, and this phrase specifically, has always struck a chord with me. More often than not, we limit our thinkings of quality and greatness to the traditional giants and successes of whatever field we are in or discussing. Because of bias, preference or who knows what else, we usually need some other kind of experience to break that line of thinking and open up the realm of greatness and quality to anyone from anywhere.

You’re probably wondering what sort of weird virtual worlds we will build this semester, but I’ll stop you right there because we’re not doing that. Well, we might, maybe. We are currently undecided. But I’ll get to that. 

Physics problems are done in a vacuum, but life is not.

Throughout these three weeks, I was really worried we were not going to get the game (or experience) we wanted. Boy, was I wrong. I truly believe that the only reason we were able to get to the final product we did was because we were wrong so many times. Maybe that Thomas Edison guy was on to something when he talked how important it was to find ways to not build a lightbulb. We went through a lot of doors that taught us the wrong way to make a “chicken crossing a road to find love” experience, but we could only get to the right door if we went through some of the wrong ones first.

1. Nostalgia is a hard feeling to create in another person, 2. Nostalgia is a really hard feeling to create in another person in 2-3 minutes, 3. Nostalgia is a really really hard feeling to create in another person in 2-3 minutes when you’re not Steven Spielberg, 4. Nostalgia is a really really really hard feeling to create in another person in 2-3 minutes when you’re not Steven Spielberg and you only have two weeks.

Anyway, fun is good and we try to make good things so we try to make fun things. While it all seems like play-time at the ETC, if you show up between 11pm and midnight on a Monday night before something is due, you will not find very many people who would willingly admit they are having fun. Those are the points, while, yes, you are making a video game or, yes, are building an entire world that has never been thought of before, where you question your sanity and your definition of fun.

At the end of the day, good design is not deemed good design by a rigid set of standards. Good design is deemed good design by the people that interact with the designs. And, a lot of the time, good design is good design because the people that interact with it do not even notice it at all. Well-designed things make sense without having to tell people that they make sense.

Two words strike absolute terror into the hearts of students everywhere: group projects.

Audible sighs arise from classrooms and lecture halls around the world when teachers and professors utter those fatal words. It does not matter if you are a first grader or a graduate student, working with other people seems to be a daunting task. Why?

So, that’s where I’m at now, sitting in my new apartment in Pittsburgh just a week before my first class in the ETC on my way to earning a Master’s Degree in Entertainment Technology. People keep asking me if I am excited for school to start again and I keep saying yes because I am just excited to see what school starting means. From internet research and second-hand information, this is not your run-of-the-mill two years of graduate school and that’s exactly what I was hoping for because I do not want your run-of-the-mill job or life. I want to develop my skills as an engineer and a designer and create really cool and meaningful stuff for people. I want to work with other talented and excited people who share in my desire to design and build really cool and meaningful stuff for people. I want to take advantage of everything the ETC and these two years have to offer. I want to really achieve my childhood dream.