The Joys of Spring

A beautiful thing happened somewhere between the beginning and the end of third quarter: I got my weekends back. I no longer spend seven days a week at school. I've been spending at least one weekend day hiking, volunteering, poking around downtown, and generally enjoying myself. This weekend, reclamation came like a gift from the business heaven.

To celebrate our passage out of the core, we did what we always do after succeeding (or failing) at something: We went out drinking. Our class joined the class of 2006 at a bar called The Little Red Hen, and to the horror of the "serious" singers at the bar, belted out karaoke songs.

Third quarter at the University of Washington is, for you statistics buffs, bimodal. We start with our last five weeks of core, three "mini classes" in Managerial Accounting, Operations Management and Quantitative Methods. We end the year with three five-week electives, designed to help us hone in on areas of interest before we commit to quarter-long classes the next fall.

BY THE NUMBERS. On behalf of all the dreamers and writers who are contemplating business school, it would be irresponsible of me to say that I enjoyed the five-week mini-courses that rounded out our core experience.

It could have been all of the math required, or it could have been my final arrival at the fact that we define our world by how much we consume, how much we can afford to consume, and how much more stuff we can have than others. Perhaps it was the combination of these: the notion that we can use math to determine just about anything, using theories about human nature and behavior.

Take queuing theory. Some people dedicate their entire lives to studying how people wait in line. There is something profound, poetic, and a little sad about this. In any case, let's get the lingo down first: When people don't line up because the line's too long, they "balk." The more people queue, the more cappuccinos and Big Macs they buy, and the higher corporate profits soar.

So companies hire consultants to do complicated math equations to determine how to increase queuing behavior and decrease balking behavior. They pay these consultants an inordinate amount of money.

STUDENT LEADERS. Consultants say things like, "Perhaps you should put mirrors outside of elevators so people don't know they're queuing" and "You know, your bottleneck is not at the cash register, it's at the barista station," and "I suggest you hide your drive-thru line so people can't tell how long the wait will be until they're stuck between two cars." I know these math equations. It's the end of the year and I have a double-digit bank balance to get me through the summer until I'm paid for my internship. I am desperately poor. Any takers?

The highlight of my spring quarter was attending the Graduate Business Conference. Each year, four students from our UW MBA student leadership team travel to this event, which allows participants from around the world to share ideas with one another. Last year the conference was held in Indiana.

This year it was in Copenhagen, the home of Prince Frederick, Danish pastries, gorgeous people, the Little Mermaid, controversial cartoons, Smurfs, and Hamlet. We packed our bags with suits and uncomfortable shoes and were on our way.

WELL-HEELED. The idea of flying for over 10 hours for a four-day trip, hammered by jet lag, may not appeal to some. Add to that the occurrence of midterms immediately upon our return, and costs soar higher. The equation tips positive, however, when you factor in the opportunities that come from meeting and learning from the leadership teams of almost every top business school in the world.

Midterms be damned—one thing I've learned here is that extracurricular experiences like this can trump academics. I spent my four days in awe of my peers' thoughts, ideas, aspirations, as well as European women's ability to glide across cobblestones in three-inch heels.

I'd learned enough about MBA culture to expect a good deal of chest beating and feather puffing at the conference. The group did not let me down. When I commented on the Danes' extraordinary good looks to a constituent from Sweden, he replied, "If you think Danish people are beautiful, you've obviously never been to Sweden." Humility, my friends, is for snails and social workers.

TO-DO LIST. Jet lag, while murderous to conference presentations after big buttery Danish lunches, provided a lot of room for reflection when I was wide-eyed in bed at three in the morning. For three nights and two plane rides, I spent the bulk of my time trying to teach myself Activity-Based Costing and reflecting on business school.

I had come to school with no expectations other than that it was going to be different, difficult, and would probably involve math. It was, and it did. I also hoped to learn techniques and frameworks that would provide focus and help to guide my work in the nonprofit world. That I did. I hoped to debate, to challenge and be challenged. Check.

I had expected that I would make friends, but I hadn't expected that I would also develop bonds with professors and program staff that most likely will last beyond my tenure here. I also hadn't expected the intense nature of friendships that would form so early in the year. I hadn't expected to develop, out of necessity and lack of time, the courage to say no to projects I really wanted to join, and of this word's value to all parties involved.

SUMMER PLANS. I came here to learn innovative business techniques to bring back to nonprofits, but I didn't know I'd realize that some of the work in leadership and organizational structure that they've been doing at the Y for years could teach the business world a thing or two about sharing vision and values across decentralized multinational organizations.

This summer, I'll be joining the YMCA of the USA to produce a five-year development plan for the national arts and humanities division. I'm going to use internal and external trends, YMCA history, surveys, and other materials to put together projections, and I'll be doing this with the help of my mentor, Jason Shinder. If all goes well, I'll present my findings at a meeting of consultants in September.

Next year, I'll be combining my courses at the business school with electives at the Evans School of Public Affairs. I've heard that these schools are very different in terms of their culture and curriculum. I'm excited to experience the differences for myself, and to play the devil's advocate in my Evans classes just as I have in business school, using the new theories I've learned here.

More than this, I believe that the core has primed me to explore new ideas and theories on my own, through independent study and consulting projects. Next year will hold a new set of challenges and opportunities, and I can't wait to jump in.