Prompt: Stanford students possess intellectual vitality. Reflect on an idea or experience that has been important to your intellectual development.
"1, 2, 3, go!" I exclaimed as I set off the trigger. Nothing happened. This was my tenth attempt, and the car remained motionless. Tears began to blur my eyesight as I tried to conjure up another solution.
As part of a semester group project, my physics one teacher told us to create a mousetrap car that could drive itself five feet forward and three feet in reverse. As my first engineering project, it seemed like a daunting task. After days of research and collaboration, my partners and I obtained all the necessary materials and began to build our car. Once our first prototype was ready, we eagerly tested it. It didn't work. The wheels needed better reinforcements. We applied the changes and tried again.
It still didn't work.
The material of the base of the car had to be lighter.
Again, nothing.
We made a third change. And a fourth one. And a fifth.
After each attempt, my optimism faltered. Though I spent hours reading articles and watching videos that discussed the processes in building a mousetrap car, I could not succeed. However, I maintained my determination. Continuing my research, I discovered ways to decrease friction and increase traction. I began to understand how significantly important it was to use the right amount of torque to rotate the levers that pulled the wheels to move. I tried to apply this knowledge into building the car, yet to no avail. It simply would not budge.
Though I was not successful in engineering the car, I nonetheless gained insight into the processes of thinking analytically and critically. I had to use problem solving skills to figure out the errors with my design and conceive a better scheme. This project, my first extreme challenge in critical thinking, stimulated me intellectually, and sparked a new desire to further test myself.
A year after, a friend was approached with the same assignment.
"How did you build the car?" she asked me.
"Well," I smirked, "I can give you about a dozen ways of how not to build one."
"1, 2, 3, go!" I exclaimed as I set off the trigger. Nothing happened. This was my tenth attempt, and the car remained motionless. Tears began to blur my eyesight as I tried to conjure up another solution.
As part of a semester group project, my physics one teacher told us to create a mousetrap car that could drive itself five feet forward and three feet in reverse. As my first engineering project, it seemed like a daunting task. After days of research and collaboration, my partners and I obtained all the necessary materials and began to build our car. Once our first prototype was ready, we eagerly tested it. It didn't work. The wheels needed better reinforcements. We applied the changes and tried again.
It still didn't work.
The material of the base of the car had to be lighter.
Again, nothing.
We made a third change. And a fourth one. And a fifth.
After each attempt, my optimism faltered. Though I spent hours reading articles and watching videos that discussed the processes in building a mousetrap car, I could not succeed. However, I maintained my determination. Continuing my research, I discovered ways to decrease friction and increase traction. I began to understand how significantly important it was to use the right amount of torque to rotate the levers that pulled the wheels to move. I tried to apply this knowledge into building the car, yet to no avail. It simply would not budge.
Though I was not successful in engineering the car, I nonetheless gained insight into the processes of thinking analytically and critically. I had to use problem solving skills to figure out the errors with my design and conceive a better scheme. This project, my first extreme challenge in critical thinking, stimulated me intellectually, and sparked a new desire to further test myself.
A year after, a friend was approached with the same assignment.
"How did you build the car?" she asked me.
"Well," I smirked, "I can give you about a dozen ways of how not to build one."