Reflections of a MIT Sloan MBA Graduate: Top 5 Lessons Learned

When I reflect on my past two years at MIT Sloan, it takes me a moment to collect my thoughts. After all,?a lot?has happened.?

There was a global pandemic, for one. A sudden and unexpected shift to hybrid and online learning. Ambiguity on what the future of work—and life—will look like (albeit in a much more sheltered environment than those outside an MBA program). And an abrupt realization that we, as a society, are perhaps even?more?interconnected and networked than we previously thought.

But if you ask me now, “Do you think your MBA was worth it?”—I can give you a definite answer: Yes. Yes. And yes again.

My experience may have been atypical, but attending MIT was truly transformative. It has opened up my world and perspective in ways I could not have imagined.

And although I?had expected to experience some kind of personal growth during my two years, what I didn't expect was how?much?personal growth I would undergo, nor how many epiphanies I would have along the way.?

Now, two months post-graduation, I am excited to write about my two-year MBA experience.

Here are my top 5 lessons learned:

1. Pandemics will strike, empires will fall, and careers will pivot–but resilience and optimism are timeless.

Many professionals go back to business school for two reasons: They are 1) career changers and/or 2) career accelerators.?

At the time of application, I was both. Or, to be more candid, I was lost. I wanted to accelerate my career—but also felt uncertain of what "career" that would be. All I knew was that I wanted to explore more of the world and paths that I have not yet considered.

As for the future? The opportunities felt endless.?Did I want to become an entrepreneur with my own startup? An activist fighting for a cause I deeply care about? A product manager or strategist in a well-known tech company? An expat living abroad??

The answer was: Yes. All of it.

So, like many Sloan students, I jumped into exploration and “hustler” mode on Day 1. I signed up for pitch competitions and tech-themed extracurriculars. I went to coffee chats and informal socials. I said “yes” repeatedly to everything and everyone, and dished out “no’s” only when sleep was desperately calling. My core semester at Sloan was crazily, exhaustingly, insanely full and overwhelming, and I was constantly teetering between thinking,?“This is the best thing ever,” and?“This is way too much.”?

Then, there was the self-imposed pressure. No, not the pressure to be perfect—I’ve come to realize that perfection doesn’t exist—but rather, the pressure to?be and do it all.

I have two years,?I thought to myself.?Two years to “figure it out,” map my shiny new career path, and, like Aphrodite rising from the waves, metamorphose into some kind of Lady-Boss-Career-Goddess. Two years to make the sky-high tuition price tag worth it.

Then COVID-19 hit. Like the rest of the world, we went virtual in March ’20. Despite my then-overly-optimistic projection that the pandemic would subside by fall semester, it instead lasted through graduation and beyond.

Nevertheless, while the pandemic has been horrific in so many regards, there was one silver lining:?It forced me to slow down. It forced me to do what I had, in fact, entered graduate school to do—intentionally reflect on my past experience and core motivations.

Suddenly, I found myself with time. Lots of it.

During this time, I reflected.?A lot. I reflected on my decisions made, places worked, relationships cultivated, experiences had and failures endured. I examined my insecurities and fears, and sparred with my “Inner Critic.”?I reflected on all the things—big and small—that sparked joy in my life, as well as those that drained it.

But most importantly, I reflected on what mattered to me most:?

• In my preoccupation with "finding the perfect path," was I taking enough time to regularly assess my behavior and character??
• In my impatience to cross things off my “To-Do” list, was I making enough time for others?
• Was I exhibiting the utmost integrity in my everyday life, with my actions matching my promises?
• Was I being “busy”—and filling up my schedule—with things that I truly cared about??
• In 50 years’ time, who—not what—do I want to be?

During this time, I re-gained my perspective.?I came to realize that?if?there is one guarantee in life, it’s that pandemics will strike, empires will fall, and careers will pivot.?My goal is not to find the perfect "ultimate destination," but the next step that will lead me closer to the person I want to be.

It also made me realize that, of all the traits we develop and are taught, resilience and optimism top the list.

Now, looking back, I find myself extraordinarily grateful for the blessings that?did?come out of this global crisis:?Greater value placed on my health. Friendships deepened. Time for reflection. The slowing down of life. The opportunity to listen more. The immense privilege of being able to take classes, while so many others are struggling.

The list goes on, and while my MBA experience was not what I had expected, I am eternally grateful.

2. “Tech is easy—people are hard.”?

I chose MIT for graduate school because I wanted to strengthen my quantitative chops. I wanted to round out my marketing, design and communications experience with data analytics, financial modeling and technical know-how. I wanted the MIT name and the brainpower that accompanies it.

So I pursued a Business Analytics Certificate, filled up my course schedule with analytics, system dynamics and operations classes, wrangled with R and Excel, and taught myself SQL and Tableau.?

Then my “Data, Models and Decisions” professor said one thing I will never forget: “If there’s one thing you remember from this class, it’s this: ‘Tech is easy, people are hard.’”

In other words, many people come to MIT—and to work—obsessed with the tech. They are eager to solve a Herculean challenge, advance society and utilize their technical skills to the max.?

But at the end of the day, it’s not the tech that’s difficult. That will (eventually) sort itself out. It’s the people—the management of, and collaboration with, others—that’s the?real?challenge.

My first impression of this quote was, "Well, of course. That's obvious enough." After all, business leaders have known for decades that good management is as much an art as a science. Humans are infamously rational and irrational.?

Yet, I still cannot understate its profoundness.

In fact, it reminded me of a piece of advice I repeatedly heard from other MBA graduates: Take?more?“soft skills” classes (i.e. communications, teamwork and leadership) than you think you’ll need because?those?are the ones you’ll still use 5-10+ years down the line.

For me, this was a profound wake-up call. While I have always considered myself a sociable individual—someone quick to empathize, listen and relate to others—I realized that in my obsession to gain more quantitative skills, I often underplayed the importance of these strengths.?

It reminded me that I can learn all the frameworks and tools in the world, and yet, it would all be meaningless if I didn’t take time to truly understand the “human” part of the equation.

After all, people?are?complex, which is what makes leadership so challenging and exciting. No one ticks exactly the same way, nor is intrinsically motivated by the same thing. Understanding the nuanced differences between individuals and teams is not easy, but well worth it.

3. Leaders truly?do?come in all shapes and sizes—but humility and adaptability are key.

Having worked in the U.S. for most of my professional career, I was used to seeing a certain type of C-suite executive and leadership celebrated in the media:?The tech billionaire flaunting his spaceship. The middle-aged man or woman wearing a sharp, tailored suit. The 20-something millionaire in jeans and a hoodie, carrying a prototype of his or her latest app.

Many share a similar leadership style: They exemplify the prototypical “American” leader—the “independent pioneer,” “rebellious employee,” and/or hustler who managed to “fake it” until they made it. They are extroverted, charismatic, outgoing and exuberantly confident.

This is a good thing. There is a reason these leaders are celebrated in American society, and many of them?have broken significant ground.?

But it is by no means the only, nor always the most successful, leadership style out there.

Nevertheless, prior to Sloan, I had grown to think that it was. I often found myself struggling to identify my?own?leadership style and reconciling it with what the media often branded as “successful” or “exemplary.”

A lot of it had to do with my own cultural background. Being Asian-American, I often found myself torn between two worlds, which often emphasize different traits. I was constantly torn between how I should act:?

• Should I try harder to cater to the extroverted demands of American business culture—or exhibit the more reflective introspection lauded in Asian cultures??
• Should I say something for the sake of saying it, to ensure that I have “contributed” to the discussion—or only speak when contributing something I think is truly new, deep and insightful??
• Should I confidently brandish my own opinions, even if not fully formed—or listen to what my elders—or those more senior to me—have to say before jumping in?
• Should I be relaxed, friendly and open with my mentees—or more authoritative and assertive?

In other words, what is the “correct” leadership style, and what does this mean for my own potential to be a leader? Where can?I?fit in?

Fortunately, MIT Sloan taught me that there are?all?types of leaders, many of whom break the mold for what has traditionally been shown in U.S. media.

Some leaders are?loud, brash and bold—eager to pitch their idea or solution. Others are soft-spoken, philosophical and pensive—ready to tackle impossible problems that will take decades of patience and persistence to solve.?Fortunately for all, the world desperately needs both.

Most importantly, Sloan taught me that?if there?are?leadership traits needed in?all, it is humility and adaptability. There will be times that call for momentous displays of extroversion, charisma and speaking up—and others that call for reflection, introversion and humility. Leadership comes from cultivating both—and knowing when to use each.

I entered Sloan thinking that I had to choose between one style or the other to be effective. Now, I know that all styles are necessary in different situations, as long as one is humble enough to ask for feedback, and adaptable enough to implement it when given.

4. You do?you–and let others do them.

Imposter syndrome is real. At times, I felt like the biggest imposter at Sloan.

After all, here I was, among peers who I aspired to become—peers who have started companies, launched nonprofits, crafted national policy plans and helped with cutting-edge research. I was star-struck when I arrived and self-conscious about my own perceived shortcomings.

There were many reasons for my insecurities—the biggest of which was feeling like I didn’t fit the typical “MBA” profile. I did not come from a consulting, investment banking or product management background. Case interviews did?not?come naturally to me, and learning how to fit my free-spirited form of thinking into something structured and framework-y took?a lot?of effort.

But at Sloan, I re-discovered something I subconsciously knew all along: We so often want and admire what we?don’t?have, while overlooking or denying what we do.

Business school, in a way, is a rapidly-paced game of musical chairs, in which we all lust and yearn after the chairs our classmates were—or are—sitting in.

The former consultant wants the startup life, while the start-upper dreams of MSB. The I-banker switches Goldman for fintech, while the ex-fintecher moves into healthcare. The entrepreneur stays an entrepreneur, but dreams of creating greater impact, in a different industry or problem.

This is both the beauty and danger of business school (or really, being human, period). It encourages you to explore, while tempting you to compare.

But during my time at Sloan, I have come to discover that yes, I?do?have a lot of offer, even if it’s not the traditional serving of business experience. Sloan has taught me to confidently tell my own story, be proud of who I am, and celebrate the twists-and-turns of my journey. It has shown me the power of persistence and importance of celebrating the good, the bad and the ugly.?

Better yet, it has shown me that I have?so?much more to learn, while giving me a brilliant network of people to learn from.

5. Graduation is just the beginning—there is infinitely more to do, grow, learn, fail and experience.

Before MIT, I didn’t realize how?little?I knew about the world.?

Call it the Dunning-Kruger effect, but I had considered myself to be a fairly global citizen before Sloan. I traveled frequently. I had international friends. I kept up with foreign affairs. I enjoyed books and documentaries about people and places far from me. I attended a globally recognized university, and lived and worked in four major cosmopolitan cities.

But the truth was, I had barely scratched the surface.?

MIT made me realize that there is?always something?further?beyond the horizon to be excited about—another disruptive force to be unleashed, another opportunity to be discovered. There will always be something I haven’t thought of, and a (wonderful) mistake I’ve yet to learn from.

That’s the beauty of life after b-school. A higher education can help set the foundation for further growth—introduce you to new concepts, frameworks, tools and networks—but there is no substitute for actually?doing.?

As an MBA student, it’s easy to fall into the trap of obsessing over the summer internship or post-MBA role, but more difficult to remember that life is a winding journey that never delivers exactly what you expect.

Now, rather than reflecting only on?what?MIT has taught?me, I try to focus more on?who?it has made me—someone able to adapt, fight, grow, stretch and soar in times of hardship and ease.

Graduation is only the beginning. I have been infused with a new dose of excitement, optimism and hope for the future. My MBA experience may not have been typical, but it was beyond transformative.

Here’s to what’s next.