Public health, referring to the health of entire populations, has been a hot topic in recent years. Until now, the focus of public health has been to help the population live to a standard. But when a pandemic emerges, public health becomes a crisis. When this happens, those in control of public health are allowed to take measures fit for a crisis, establishing a state controlled by public health. With the indefinite nature of health, this state justifies perpetually paranoid measures to control the population.

First, let me dissect a public health crisis, most commonly a pandemic. A pandemic is when there is a virus versus the population. With such a broad, although accurate, outline, the population is required by those in control of public health to unify so as to combat the virus like a team. This unity is always homogeneous, where everyone is required to obey the commands of those in power rather than make their own decisions. Moreover, large swaths of the population don’t feel the burden of the requirement, rather they feel as if they are working towards the “greater good.”

The division between virus and population becomes blurred after the virus has had time to interact with the population. This creates the new outline of infected versus uninfected. Again, the indefinite nature of health broadens this outline to potential infection versus potential uninfection. So, everyone has the potential to spread or contract the virus. Expanding this idea, if everyone has the potential to spread or contract the virus, then everyone is a threat to everyone. This isolates people, and makes the presence of another person a threat to you, and you, a threat to them. With society and the individual under a constant potential threat, the public health state is able to oppress individual choice indirectly through incentives (i.e. obey or starve) and perpetuate the crisis indefinitely as everyone always has the potential to spread or contract the virus. For the latter reason, the pandemic will not end anytime soon.

Now, in our globalized world, pandemics are not confined to one population but eventually invade all populations. As each society centralizes to fight the pandemic as a team, the leaders of each society centralize to establish a global health state to control the health of the world population. The idea of potentials and its effects are applicable to all persons during a global pandemic.

The indefinite nature of a global public health crisis enables those in power to establish a centralized group able to subdue individual choice for the “greater good” of public health. In the political sphere, having the group’s wellbeing over the individual’s is known as collectivism. This is unnerving as collectivism is a strong precondition for oppressive political regimes because of the centralization of power. Is the current public health crisis more than what is being told?

After a week of obsessive work attempting to have my trading bot operating before coming home, I wanted to do nothing more than close my eyes.

However, the night before my good friend and I spoke over dinner about smoking one more cigar. The next day, he asked me “if we could push things back to ten?” I knew what he meant.

My quads trembled, but I glided to the intersection of Comm Ave and BU Bridge. My fatigue was overcome with excitement. There I met Quentin, and we descended the hidden stairs onto a patch of grass adjacent to a swift highway inbound for Boston. From here, we dodged branches to climb up the embankment through the torn fence until we found ourselves on the inactive tracks.

Making sure to step firmly on each railroad tie, we walked halfway across the bridge to the usual spot, overlooking the prominent Boston skyline and geese on the Charles River.

Obeying routine, I drew the cigars from the front pocket of my backpack, careful not to let them fall into the river. I passed one to my Quentin along with the lighter, and we began to smoke.

But more importantly, we began to talk. Smoking allowed us to slow down, be present, and have a long, deep conversation. We talked on and on about politics, family life, and our reflections on the semester. We were two friends, being friends. This is how the last night of the semester was meant to be.

Until, Quentin’s eyes ballooned.

“Uh…Greg?”

I turned into the direction of his stare and saw a light that I had never seen before. It was growing.

“GET UP! MOVE!”

In shock, my first instinct was to hug the wall on the side of the bridge. But I followed Quentin, and jumped onto the rock pillar below us, cigar in hand. Trembling, I laid face down on my backpack, unaware of the magnitude of the situation. I took a deep breath. Unsure if the train was going five or fifty miles per hour. Still on the ground, looking at my friend next to me, the train passed overhead where we sat less than a minute ago. It was going slower than I envisioned, but it was still going where I was sitting.

Fading out of sight, I scanned the surrounding area, took a drag of my cigar, and my friend smirked, eyes still like balloons. I smirk, trying to contain myself until I begin to laugh hysterically. My friend cracks as well, phone in hand. He had recorded the whole event!

“OH MY GOSH DUDE!” I spit in between nervous laughing fits, “OH MY GOSH!”

Continuing to smoke, we talk to a group of girls on the bridge above. Then, we see two figures walking on the bridge from Cambridge (another sight we hadn’t seen before). Wanting to share our story, we walk over to them smoking on the pillar, and nervously cackle, “We almost got hit by a train!” They invite us down onto the pillar, and Quentin and I make ourselves comfortable off of the tracks.

We talk well into the night with these two MIT cross country runners about the act of creation, the death and legacy of Mac Miller and Lil Peep, traveling to Morocco, and wrangling geese.

Then someone behind me grunts, “hey.”

I turn around and find a man wearing nothing but sweatpants and shoes on the track above us. This is all when my butt is numb, and I’m bundled in a jacket.

The five minutes talking to him (who we later gave the moniker Shirtless) was mostly inaudible blabbering. Then, he said he was thirsty and asked if anyone had water. I gave him my embarrassingly big bottle, demanding him to waterfall as I didn’t where his mouth had been. He proceeded to drink almost a liter, spilling about twenty percent onto his bare chest. Shirtless thanked me for the drink and walked away.

The four of us continued to talk, looking at the geese sleeping on the river. The MIT students talked about the five geese they wrangled earlier. I was blown away, and glad they were using their MIT education for something exceptional. They then corrected themselves, saying wrangle is not a fitting term as the geese were like babies in their arms. They didn’t move, but felt at home after gaining trust from food.

I began to sit up and down to relieve my numb butt. I checked my watch and saw that it was approaching two. Wanting to sleep and Quentin having a final tomorrow, we decided to pack up.

But before we left, they were going to have us wrangle geese of our own. We walked to the Cambridge side of the Charles, where the geese were and began to feed them the only food we had, candy. This was in an attempt to bring them onto the bank so as to easily pick one up. We continued to throw candy at the geese, but they just wanted to sleep. The geese didn’t come onto the bank that night. We tried for a few more minutes with no such luck.

The four of us walked off the bank, laughed, hugged, and exchanged phone numbers. They headed back to MIT while Quentin and I walked back to BU across the bridge. Making sure to step firmly on each tie, I laughed at the tragedy it would have been to stay in my room that night.

I fell asleep in awe, attempting to prove that this wasn’t a dream.

P.S. Walking back, I saw Shirtless again near my dorm (still without a shirt).

I struggled to get myself to write this week. No one told me what to write about, how to do it,  or when to complete it. Where was the rubric?

For years, I had the outline for success, and that was the rubric. If I wanted to be successful, which I always did, I could simply follow the rubric that the teacher gave. With this, I didn’t have to make any decisions. I just had to work to complete the goal put upon me. I did this all for the praise that stemmed from academic achievement.

This recurring praise changed who I was. Overtime, I adapted to having my decisions made by someone else. I wanted to be praised for success, and I was successful at everything. My life was comfortable. I just had to do what I was told and everyone praised me. I lived in a bubble, until I popped it.

Many people never pop this bubble but go into adulthood living with their decisions made by someone else. They graduate from school to go into careers that treat them like students and live lives according to their schooling. They are told what to do, how to do it, and when to do it. They are praised for their conformity, and find comfort in it. They are addicted to comfort.

But they are in chains. These people will do whatever they are told, even if it goes against their conscience, to be comfortable and praised. People as such are in tyranny to themselves. They can be pulled by strings in any direction if comfort and praise is the destination. They live an illusion, and don’t have any meaning or purpose other than perpetuating their comfort. Overtime, they lose the desire to be free, if freedom does not lead to comfort.

This way of life terrifies me. I can’t imagine living an illusion after popping my bubble or coming out of the cave as Socrates described. I am the philosopher in the light. Upon seeing true reality, I can’t go back to living an illusion.

The wisdom I have gained from truth can be a burden, but is liberating. I am burdened by the newfound value of my life. Being burdened with the understanding that your life is too important for someone else to live it, is the first step towards individual liberation. If you want to be free, you must build the rubric. The rubric is in your hands.

I never wanted to go to college, but I went because it was what was expected of me upon graduating high school. My parents wanted me to go, and all of my peers were going to their respective schools. College felt like the only option. I felt stuck.

Still, I hoped college would be different from high school. Something within me believed that I would finally be able to pursue my curiosity and ask big questions while engaging with professors who were also my mentors, but the closer I got to high school graduation and leaving home, the more this hope faded. When I got to campus, I was proven that school is still school, no matter the level. It was still about standardization and completion versus curiosity and creativity. Like high school, I felt contained in a box that I had to check. Except for this time, I was living far away from home and paying more than I would like to admit. 

Now, I have always loved to learn. Whether it is improving at the things I am passionate about or further understanding the world I live in, I love to learn. I enjoy following my curiosity where it leads, diving deep into my passions, and creating new things. And at an early age, I realized that I could not count on school to provide me with this experience. I separated education from school and put my education into my own hands. This is only possible due to the internet. With the internet, I have been able to go directly to the source of knowledge, learning from world-class performers, all for free. I have been able to translate my knowledge into creating things of value, both for myself and others. And I have grown by getting feedback and comparing my work to that of others, all through the internet! The internet has given power to the individual and stripped the need for the educational middleman known as school. 

Putting my education into my own hands at an early age blossomed, unknowingly at the time, into a life centered on liberty. I desire freedom above all so I can order my life as I see fit rather than having it ordered for me. That is today, with passion, making an impact on others, being creative. To begin, I can’t put my life on hold because it is happening right now. My time is limited in this world, and slipping away with every second. Next, I want to live on fire, knowing why I do what I do, providing value to others in ways that are unique to me. And lastly, creativity is essential to living a fulfilling life. I perceive college to be in direct opposition to my purpose at this time. At college, I am having to put my life on hold to check a box. And I further slip into an apathetic bubble as I am not making an impact on others and being schooled rather than educated. College is inhibiting the life I want to live. 

This is, with the mission statement above centering me, to be a public intellectual, entrepreneur, and investor. I want to be someone who initiates change through ideas. The key to success is individual initiation. It is adding value without permission. 

How can this be done? For over a decade, I was instilled with the lie of going to a good college to get a good job to make lots of money. This is the model of success that society sets up for young people. Breaking this process down into first principles: a good college creates personal value through education, getting a good job means you have shown value through your education, and making money means you are adding value and in return receiving. My entire decision for leaving is based on value. What is the most valuable way I can spend my time to make myself valuable in the job market so I can gain financial value? It is outside of college, developing as an individual through the internet and interacting with the real world. The internet, as I have outlined before, grants the individual the opportunity to learn anything for free to build exceptional ability, show their exceptional ability by displaying their work, and reaching out to others to add value to benefit monetarily. This is all in the real world, where an education is gained through experience and life itself. 

In all, I am not finding the college experience valuable to my intellectual and professional goals. While it is fun and safe, my life is more important. It won’t be easy, but as Benjamin Franklin says, “Those who would give up essential Liberty, to purchase a little temporary Safety, deserve neither Liberty nor Safety.” The time is now. The decision is mine. I am leaving college.