Logical Passions
As a boy, I never would have envisioned becoming an actuary. Like most kids, I used to want to be a doctor or a lawyer or an astronaut or, when I was feeling particularly imaginative, a ghost buster. But a mathematician? It never crossed my mind. Yet today, math, as boring as it may sound, has become my passion.
I was always the smallest boy in the class growing up, so I tended to focus my attention on things better suited to my strengths, making school a great avenue for my passions. It was fitting since I had always stood out to my teachers as being particularly bright. I had interests in almost everything, but it became evident early on that I excelled the most in math and the sciences.
Somewhere along the lines, things changed, though I've never been able to pinpoint 
when it happened. I went from being the most talkative kid in class to the least, and my psychological type experienced a near total reversal. It's something I've always wanted to explore more, because I think doing so would better help me understand myself and my passions. Though I can't say exactly what happened, I do have one theory. Growing up in a military family meant that I moved around often. I think that because I didn't stay in any one place for very long, I didn't develop as many relationships with others for fear of becoming too attached to people and places I knew I'd soon be leaving. I moved to Japan while I was in the fourth grade, and at the time I harbored a lot of bitterness. I had friends in San Antonio, Texas, as did my parents. They also bought a house there with the intention of retiring in San Antonio. Since I knew that we would be returning to Texas, I never bothered to make many friends in Japan during a crucial period in a young person's social life. When I finally did come back to Texas, I was a lot more reserved.
From then on I felt a sense of isolation, and school became an even greater avenue for my passions. Math was always my best subject growing up, but it was actually my least favorite. I liked almost everything else, and Newman expressed it best when he said "to give undue prominence to one is to be unjust to another."[1] It wasn't until high school that I actually started to appreciate math. It was in high school -- a public high school, no less -- that I had some of the best and most passionate teachers I've ever had. My teachers loved what they did and what they taught, and helped me to realize and intensify my strengths. They also helped me gain an appreciation for the subject, turned my focus towards something when I had none, and helped me develop passion when I was lacking it. Developing a passion towards one thing led me to become more passionate about other things as well.
My new passion enabled me to become a leader, or at least gain leadership experience. I started participating in extracurricular activities, something I had never done before this point. I joined a number of different clubs, met new people, and even took on leadership positions within those clubs. It helped me to break out from my introversion, if only just a little bit.
When I got to college, I hoped most of that would carry over, but so far I don't feel like it has. I think a lot of it has to do with the relationships I form. I realized that I need a long time to develop relationships with other people. In high school I took nearly all honors classes, which meant I saw mostly the same people for four years. By the third and fourth years of high school I started to break out of my shell. However, college moves much faster, meaning that there's less time for me to become comfortable with others. To help myself overcome this, I've taken a lot of different classes to try and discover more about myself, to "hammer my thoughts into unity."
Understanding my learning and writing styles helps me to better realize their effects on me and my ability to become a leader. I generally like to follow at first, since I'm initially uncomfortable with new people, but as I develop relationships with people I'm more aware of my role and more inclined to lead others. I'm a thinker, so I view things rationally. Seeing things from others' perspectives is a great strength of mine because it allows me to better connect with people. I listen well to others without judging. But among those qualities that I possess, there are some leadership qualities that I lack. Because I'm an introvert, I generally stand back and don't approach others first. A good leader needs to be able to take charge of others and initiate contact.
Discovery learning, that is, learning more about myself, and understanding is the first step towards change. Breaking my introversion is a big part of my vision for leadership. Our society puts great importance on those who can lead others. Followers do necessary tasks and complete necessary functions, but there are plenty of people who can do those things. Leaders make decisions and rally people to their cause. By learning more about myself, I learn more about what it takes to become a leader.
Since coming to college, I've tried to break many of my old habits. There's nothing wrong with your personality type, but when you're too strong in any one category, especially introvert (which I am, ringing in at eighty-eight percent), it can definitely hinder your ability to lead. That's why I've taken a number of different classes at the University of Texas to try and fan the flames of my passion, both inside of math and outside of it. I appreciate great literature and art and architecture. When people ask me why I take so many classes that I'm not required to, I can now safely tell them what Buckley said, that it's to satisfy "a passionate desire to find some new centre of life."[2] True passion is the key to being a great leader. As Robert Lee states, the best leaders in this world "bring authenticity to the job."[3]
My passion for math is partially about maximizing my natural strengths. Anyone can do just about anything, but not everyone can be good at everything. I have other academic passions, but math is my most important passion because it's what I'm best at, and because of that I can go farther with it than I would be able to with any of my other more artistic passions. My talents in those passions are fairly limited, so I'm more than happy to settle for an appreciation and understanding for them.
But there's more to my passion for math than just being good at it. 
There's a certain beauty in how everything comes together. It's a different kind of beauty than what's found in nature, but the laws of mathematics define the way the natural world works. Math is one of the few scientific disciplines in which everything follows strict rules. Unlike other sciences, nothing has to be memorized. In biology, there are still many things we don't know about the natural world, and for many of the things we do know to be true, we aren't sure of why they're true. We take them to be true because we observe them to be so. Mathematics, on the other hand, is different. From the most difficult paradoxes to the most simple statements, the laws of mathematics can be proven. It's a great feeling to know that something works and to also know why it works.
There are many theoretical aspects of math that aren't always applicable to everyday life, but there are also many practical parts as well, and those are what I've chosen to focus on. I also know that when I graduate I can put my passion to good use. I can use it to help people and businesses plan for the future. Passionate teachers create passionate students, and I'm lucky to have those kinds of teachers in high school and here at the University of Texas. The actuarial science program is run by Dr. Jim Daniel, and you can tell he loves his work, his research, and his students. That kind of passion just rubs off. It makes it so much easier to enjoy what I do when I see someone who has been doing it for so long still taking pride in it.
Since I'm only eight months away from graduation, I've already begun to think about my pilgrimage, and I see it as a period in my life when I'll be happy. Happiness is such a vague concept, but I leave it that way intentionally, because as Mill puts it, "Ask yourself whether you are happy, and you cease to be so."[4] My pilgrimage is undefined. There are no boundaries, no limitations, no stipulations, and nothing else that would complicate it. Its premise is simple, and rightfully so. All anyone can ever ask for in life is to live well and be happy.
One day when I have the time and money, I'd love to travel. There are so many beautiful places in this world that I've only seen or read about. Experiencing them would be amazing. It's always been a dream of mine to travel the world free of worry or care, to stop only to admire glorious nature. I traveled when I was young, but back then I didn't appreciate it. I did like the change and saw it as a nuisance. I always wanted to go back to the United States, so I didn't treasure the time I spent in other countries. Looking back, I wish I would have taken advantage of the unique opportunities I had. There's just nothing more beautiful than the cherry blossoms in the spring, and if there's one thing I miss most and wish I would have appreciated more in my childhood, it's the cherry blossom trees, a symbol of Japanese beauty much like roses are to Western culture. Who could ask for anything more than the freedom to experience the natural world? Certainly not Wordsworth, who writes that nature is "the pleasure which there is in life itself."[5]
My pilgrimage will take me to greatness. I don't expect to be famous or to be the best, but I do plan to work hard, as Carlyle says, to "produce it, in God's name"[6] because with hard work and determination, good things will follow. Then I can put mine among the "contributions of men who have perished to add their point of light to our sky."[7] Through intelligence and work, I can make a difference, however big or small, because "there needs but one wise man in a company and all are wise, so rapid is the contagion."[8]
Word Count: 1,881
Net Word Count: 1,778
Notes
1. John Henry Newman, "The Idea of a University," in Victorian Literature, ed. Jerome Bump (Austin: Jenn's Copy & Binding, 2006), 309.
2. Jerome H. Buckley, "The Pattern of Conversion," in Victorian Literature, ed. Jerome Bump (Austin: Jenn's Copy & Binding, 2006), 352.
3. Robert J. Lee, "Discovering the Leader in You," in Victorian Literature, ed. Jerome Bump (Austin: Jenn's Copy & Binding, 2006), 53.
4. Robert J. Lee, "Discovering the Leader in You," in Victorian Literature, ed. Jerome Bump (Austin: Jenn's Copy & Binding, 2006), 53.
5. William Wordsworth, "Michael, A Pastoral Poem," in Victorian Literature, ed. Jerome Bump (Austin: Jenn's Copy & Binding, 2006), 275.
6. Thomas Carlyle, "Sartor Resartus," in Victorian Literature, ed. Jerome Bump (Austin: Jenn's Copy & Binding, 2006), 367.
7. Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Representative Men," in Victorian Literature, ed. Jerome Bump (Austin: Jenn's Copy & Binding, 2006), 371.
8. Ibid., 371.