Honestly, before this project, I didn’t really think woodworking was something I’d ever do or feel connected to. It seemed like one of those niche skills for people who grew up with tools in their hands, not someone like me. But stepping into the Fimbel workshop was surprisingly welcoming. The space was set up in a way that felt approachable, and having clear steps to follow, like cutting the legs and drilling the holes, made it all less intimidating. It didn’t feel like I was expected to know everything right away, which was such a relief. Every time I finished a step, whether it was using the Japanese saw or screwing in the legs, I felt this small sense of accomplishment that kept me going.
The whole process made me realize that I didn’t have to be “perfect” at woodworking to enjoy it or feel like I belonged. The instructors and tools were there to help, not to judge, which made a huge difference. I started to see woodworking not as this distant, exclusive skill, but as something I could do—and even enjoy—if I just gave myself the chance to try. By the time I was decorating the Message Box, I was actually proud of what I’d created, and that sense of belonging came from knowing I had the support and space to figure things out.
This whole experience really reminded me of my academic journey, especially in areas where I’ve struggled before. One example is coding. When I first started using tools like NetLogo for research, I felt completely out of my depth. It was frustrating and intimidating, and I honestly thought I’d never “get it.” But, much like in the Fimbel workshop, I realized the importance of taking it step by step and letting myself make mistakes. Slowly but surely, I started to understand how things worked, and those little wins along the way—like debugging a tricky piece of code—made all the difference.
I’ve also noticed how much the environment around me affects my ability to stick with something. In woodworking, it was the supportive atmosphere of the Fimbel workshop, and in academics, it’s been approachable professors and encouraging peers. When the people around you are rooting for you and there’s a clear path to follow, it’s so much easier to feel like you belong. On the flip side, I’ve struggled in spaces where I felt like I was on my own or expected to know everything from the start. That contrast has really taught me how important inclusive and welcoming environments are for growth.
If I could go back, I’d tell myself to stop worrying about failing and just dive in. Every new challenge, whether woodworking or a tough class, has been a chance to learn and grow, and those moments of uncertainty often lead to the most rewarding experiences.