When I was 18 years old, I left the country for the first time. Having just confirmed my enrollment at Tech after spending my whole life in an Atlanta suburb, I knew I wanted to travel before starting my higher education. Little did I know that by flying to Israel I would not just experience the unique aspects of traveling to a different nation, but I would be traveling to a different world altogether — a feat made possible by my 97-year-old Great-Aunt Marcelle. 

Before I first met my Aunt Marcelle, I had come to know her through her daily telephone calls with my grandfather, who lived in my home. My grandfather did not just limit religion to his daily (and plentiful) prayers, rather every aspect of his life was followed and executed with the exact precision of his religious devotion. It was therefore known throughout the house that at the stroke of noon — no earlier and no later — he would call his beloved little sister. Although the two siblings spoke in French I could not understand, those daily telephone calls, for their unwavering commitment and exotic appeal, became a significant part of my life. 

After 18 years, I was enthralled to finally meet the voice behind those daily telephone calls that had always captivated my imagination. I became even more enthralled as my dad and I walked to my great aunt’s house through the streets of Tel Aviv, a city full of sky-high towers and nonstop action. Tucked between these multi-storied buildings and alongside the interminable activity was a tiny house that emanated peace and calm. I was in disbelief to see my dad stop in front of it. I would experience a similar shock upon meeting the residence’s humble dweller.  

With her tiny frame and soft features, the woman that answered the door was so different from my grandfather, whose staggering height and commanding presence never failed to impress even the most indifferent onlooker. I would quickly come to learn that despite any shortage in physical height my great aunt had, she more than made up for with her larger-than-life personality — a personality that could speak at least half a dozen languages. 

In just one sentence alone, my Aunt Marcelle could masterfully mix together a handful of languages. By throwing in a blend of Arabic, Hebrew, French and more, she united these differing — and oftentimes conflicting — cultures together. 

And in no language was she more fluent than in the language of blessings. Whether it was to praise Hebrew’s Hashem, Arabic’s Allah or French’s Dieu, at the ripe age of 97, my Aunt Marcelle never lost her sense of awe for the world around her. Perhaps it was the gigantic cup of strong Turkish coffee she began every morning with, or the sugar-filled jam she made from the fruits of her garden, that helped to inspire this sense of wonder and gratitude within her. 

My time in Israel also helped to inspire a sense of wonder and gratitude within me. I not only got to know my amazing great aunt, but I also made sure to get to know the country. I floated in the Dead Sea, daydreamed at the Western Wall, hiked Mount Masada, sprinted through stoplights to catch overcrowded buses and ate too many falafels to count. From all of these many incredible experiences, I learned that traveling can take you to a different nation but people can take you to a different world. 

As the world struggles to overcome the pandemic of COVID-19 and with an increasing number of activities being placed on hold, including physical travel, the awe-inspiring worlds that individuals continue to create during this time allow for borders to still be transcended even alongside new practices such as social distancing. From online lessons to virtual happy hours, the growing forms of communication during this time of distress serve as a symbol of the infallible human spirit. A spirit in which any differences — whether linguistic or cultural — matter not and every occasion — from strong Turkish coffee to homemade apricot jam — deserve a blessing. 

In dedication to those who have traveled to a higher world. May their memories be for a blessing.

Whether it is nervous fidgeting or biting fingernails, breaking small habits can come as a big challenge. From saving rates to educational achievements, behavioral economists strive to analyze and even change human patterns more complicated in scope. 

The three-time New York Times bestselling author Dan Ariely is one such behavioral economist. On Feb. 9, the Chabad at Tech, in collaboration with its Intown partner, hosted Ariely at the Academy of Medicine.

With TED talks that have been watched over 15 million times, Ariely directly addressed campus to discuss this endeavor of changing human patterns through “Unraveling the Mysteries of Human Behavior.”

“When we think about the state of the world, it is very clear that the state of the world is not where we would like it to be,” said Ariely. “There is a big gap. And the question is how do we narrow that gap?”

Ariely’s question was not a rhetorical one, as he shifted responsibility to the audience and urged them to consider the gaps between an ideal future and the current reality in their own personal lives. 

“It’s always easy to talk about what other people are not doing right, but we can also think introspectively about ourselves. How many people in this room in the last month have eaten more than they think they should?” He asked. 

“How many in the last month have exercised less than they think they should? How many of you in the last month have not slept enough?”

Ariely explained how behavioral economists can be used to help bridge these gaps between the ideal and the existent, specifically in terms of public policy. 

He explained his work in reforming nutritional markings in Israel, replacing detailed food labels with either a green or red circle. Per convention, a green circle signals healthy foods whereas red signals unhealthy, and the simple system minimizes any excess for consumers. 

Ariely explained his unconventional approach of reducing information, as this sharply contrasts with the more popular doctrine of classical economics to spread as much information as possible. 

“We usually think about giving people information — that if we give people information, they would make the right decision,” said Ariely. “But there is actually no evidence for this.”

Ariely pointed to the minimal return on financial literacy, as the U.S. spends around 700 billion dollars while savings have only improved by 0.1% — “That’s not zero percent, but as humanly possible to zero as you can get,” he joked.  He also noted that rates of texting and driving have increased even though education about its dangers has also increased. 

With such disheartening statistics, Ariely discussed the importance of a new approach to changing human behavior.

“The key is not to change the person but to change the environment,” he said, as he compared changing human behavior to sending a rocket to space in terms of both friction and fuel. 

“Is the easy behavior and the right behavior aligned? If they are not, there is extra friction. And then how do we add motivation?”

Through eliminating barriers and adding incentives, Ariely suggested that human behavior can ultimately be changed.  He also addressed the way in which the architect of an environment  influences its inhabitants. 

“We walk around the world in choice architecture, and environment matters,” said Ariely. “Almost every entity around us wants something from us right now. Every shop wants us to buy something today, every app wants us to check it today.”

“You go to the supermarket and you have a plan, but the supermarket also has a plan,” Ariely continued. “And the supermarket’s plan is not the same as yours. And the supermarket controls the environment, so who do you think wins?”

As control of environments have eroded, Ariely argued that the assumption of the rationality of individuals that is found in classical economics has also eroded. 

Ariely argued that to change human behavior, the approach must first be changed.  

“You can look at the state of the world and say, ‘This is the outcome of 8 billion rational people, and this is the best we can get?’ Or you can look at it and say, ‘This is the outcome of 8 billion irrational people working in a suboptimal system and there is lots of room for improvement.’”

“We can do so much better,” said Ariely, “if we just build a better environment.”

On any tour of campus, a guide will doubtless stop by the Clough Undergraduate Learning Commons (the Culc) and discuss its staging as the Googleplex in “The Internship.” Upon enrolling at Tech, students quickly learn the building is valued far more than for its debut in a major film for it also serves as a haven of knowledge. 

On Jan. 30, the building’s namesake, President Emeritus G. Wayne Clough, returned to campus to share his perspective on this topic of knowledge.

 Clough’s perspective of knowledge has not only been shaped by his experiences as both a former student and president at Tech, but has also been shaped by his tenure as the Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution in the nation’s capital. In his discussion, Clough focused on the democratization of information through the use of digitization. 

He started off with a look back at the early ideas of democracy as formulated by America’s Founding Fathers, ideas which emphasized the importance of a knowledgeable and informed public. 

“Promote then, as an object of primary importance, institutions for the general diffusion of knowledge,” Clough shared, quoting George Washington. “In proportion as the structure of a government gives force to public opinion, it is essential that public opinion should be enlightened.”

Fast forward just a few centuries later, and around 2.5 quintillion bytes of data are now generated every day.

Clough shared how this colossal number of data generation not only comes with advantages — specifically in reference to the digitization of databases which now provide the public with access to  hundreds of millions of books, films and other works of art — but also comes with its dangers. 

Clough explained how concerns over reliability have not only plagued politics with increased rates of fake news, but have also threatened academia with growing negligence for a dive deeper than a search engine’s top hit. 

“When you go to the archives, sometimes they take you to the things that you like, as opposed to the things that will tell you the real story,” Clough explained. 

Clough referred to the artist Winslow Homer as an example of the shortcomings of this surface-level search. 

While an online search will pull up some of his best works, such as scenic paintings of the ocean, it will fail to tell the history of his career in the Civil War which greatly shaped his artistic career. 

“There’s a lot there,” Clough said, “but what do you do with it? Is it just going to sit there? Is it ever going to reach us? Are we ever going to do anything with all of this?”

Clough discussed the ways in which digitization can provide answers on what to do with all of the data out there and can also provide relief from the superficial “top hit” approach. He spoke of the Smithsonian’s collection of nearly 15 million digital archives that has created an online presence for the Institution, which encompasses an expansive network of museums, exhibits and  research centers.

Clough shared examples of the digital archives, which began with the digitization of over 45,000 bumble bees (“People like bumbless,” he joked). The collection has now expanded to include a letter from the famed artist Thomas Hart Benton telling a young Jackson Pollock that he saw his “stuff” and he would be a “fool if he didn’t cut out the monkey business and get to work.” Even the glass plates that the women “computers” at Harvard College Observatory began working with in the 1870s can be now also be accessed online. 

Clough also explained that a digital enterprise includes far more than just digitization, also encompassing endeavors such as supercomputing for astrophysicists, data management for environmental research, online teaching tools for educators and social media for public engagement. 

When NASA and the Smithsonian partnered for the nose-to-nose meeting of the space shuttles Discovery and Enterprise — an endeavor achieved through the work of Tech graduates Clough noted —  more than one billion people were engaged with social media. 

Clough also discussed the expansion of the 3D printing digital collection,. He even brought personal examples which included one of the four head bust sculptures that have been printed of President Barack Obama, the original of which can be viewed at the National Gallery of Art.  

Clough’s latest book, Things New and Strange: A Southerner’s Journey Through the Smithsonian Collections, give readers even more personal examples that have been made possible with the help of digitization. 

“I used [the collections] to explain how a place called South Georgia became South Georgia over 13000 years over a set of collections. I learned things I never imagined,” said the Douglas
native.

Clough explained how the democratization of information has made this endeavor of self-discovery possible for all: how with just the click of a keyboard, people can learn unimaginable reports from the past. 

“You can do it yourself,” said Clough. “You can learn about yourself. It’s a new way to use the collections: not curators telling you what to do, you do it.” 

Clough spoke of the urgency of individuals to use the information available to them, especially in the political realm. 

“You can’t be passive about it,” he said in talking about digital technology. “Obviously, the people running elections today know this. 

“They are picking up on who the people are that walk into the vicinity of their rallies. They know you’re there, and they will contact you.”

In order to protect the ideas of democracy held by the nation’s Founding Fathers, Clough advocated for further advancement in the democratization of information. 

“Libraries, museums and archives need to be aggressive on behalf of our democracy,” said Clough. “To let people know what’s available and to help them learn about what George Washington said.” 

For Yamiche Alcindor, everyday is a crazy day. The PBS News Hour White House correspondent and political contributor of channels such as NBC News and MSNBC begins each day around 5 a.m. to unravel the constant stream of breaking news. 

From listening to Congressional briefings, reading through the latest headlines, finding personal sources and appearing on national television, Alcindor’s work is infused with a sense of urgency.  Despite the urgency of her own personal schedule, the journalist paused to honor the legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and to reflect on the sense of urgency he embraced to forever change American society. 

Alcindor’s address to the Tech community on Jan. 15th — which marked the date of what would have been King’s 91st birthday — served as one of many events hosted on campus to commemorate the legendary figure. 

The theme of this ninth annual celebration on campus? The Beloved Community 2020: Activism and the Fierce Urgency of Now. 

When King spoke of what he called the “fierce urgency of now” — most notably in his famed “I Have a Dream” speech — he spoke of a unified community not in some distant utopia, but in the current moment. 

Recently-inaugurated President Cabrera weighed in on the significance of these words for their insistence on every individual to demand — and to ultimately drive — change. 

“Dr. King was the face and the leader,” Cabrera said when speaking about the Civil Rights Movement. “But it took the work of thousands of people to be a part of that movement for it to have an impact. So what that movement drove to me was not just the admiration for the man, it was a reflection of the duty that each of us have to drive change.”

By alluding to King’s statement that “everybody can be great because anybody can serve,” Cabrera reflected on using Tech’s motto of “Progress and Service” as a motivation for the community to drive change. 

“Developing the technology,  developing the gadget, is great and nice,” said Cabrera. “But if you want to be great, you have to serve. You have to figure out how in the world what you do is going to change the lives of others.”

In aspiring change, Alcindor quoted another King affirmation: “The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.”

With references to the impeachment trial and upcoming elections, Alcindor reflected that we still live in “times of challenge of controversy” to this day. She has measured where she stands in these difficult moments by focusing on purpose, truth and justice. 

“In my mind, one has to find their purpose, do their best to seek truth and then press forward for justice,” said Alcindor. 

Pressing forward, Alcindor admitted, can often times come as a challenge. 

“Pushing forward means doing a whole bunch of stuff you might not want to do, but that will bring you closer to your purpose. And never shy away from that.”

Alcindor shared some personal moments from her life that made pushing forward especially difficult. 

From working at a McDonald’s to taking a position as a telemarketer, Alcindor’s career was rife with struggles. She nevertheless affirmed that these personal struggles that many face are the very same struggles the nation faces in its ongoing path towards democracy. 

“I think that we all need to understand that this path to making America a more perfect union and to pressing forward to democracy might be bumpy and it might have all types of twists and turns,” Alcindor said. 

Alcindor’s path — with all of its twists and turns — ultimately led her to pursue journalism. As the daughter of a social worker in Miami, Alcindor witnessed tragedies and disparities from a young age, tragedies and disparities which prompted her to ask pressing questions she has been working on uncovering throughout her career.  

“I had my own questions,” Alcindor explained. “I thought they were simple questions, but they are questions I have now spent more than a decade trying to answer.

“I asked why, in my majority black high school, my AP chemistry class was made up of mostly white students. I asked why I had to be bussed from the suburbs into an urban setting to be at a magnet school. Why did some of my dearest friends who were not in those confusing AP chemistry classes watch me fill out applications to colleges but not fill them out themselves? And who in the world was in charge of making these decisions?”

Searching for the answers to these questions led Alcindor to the conclusion that race played a major factor in all of these circumstances even if race was not directly evident on the surface. 

“We are doing our jobs in this country and we are asking questions about policy, when a lot of these things go right back to race —right back to what Martin Luther King was working on, right back to what Martin Luther King died for.”

It was while doing her job at the National Association of Black Journalists in our nation’s capital that Alcindor further completed the work King was working on, appropriately meeting her future husband at the foothold of the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial. Alcindor reflected on this personal connection of hers as a continuation of King’s fierce urgency of now that continues to push her and millions more  towards a unified community. 

“His legacy continues to push us forward. His legacy continues to push us toward love, toward understanding, toward all the greater understanding of this world.”

Since 1996, the High Museum’s “Picturing the South” project has provided viewers with a new perspective on the perplexing region. Alex Harris’s “Our Strange New Land” serves as the newest addition to this collection. The Georgia  native’s photography exhibit follows the productions of contemporary, independent films set in the region, shedding new light on the rising industry’s commentary on the South.  

The exhibit highlights many of the issues that communities of the South must tackle as the region struggles to overcome a dark past in hopes of arriving at a brighter future. Whether it is a Civil War drama that delves into a troubling history or a narrative that delves into the current disarray of Miami’s oldest housing projects, the films at the focus of Alex Harris’s photography grapple with complex themes such as race, violence and relationships.

“This exhibit is a conversation about the South … about the way in which we all engage with our world,” Alex Harris explained. “[About] the stories we all need, that we look for and get people to tell us about how we move through our lives.” 

The stories of the South are full of complexity and nuances, and Alex Harris’s simultaneous focus on both photography and filmmaking — on both passiveness and engagement — adds to the layers of duality showcased throughout his work. It is not only stillness and action that are juxtaposed, but also reality and fantasy. 

While most of Alex Harris’s images focus on the set designs that the independent filmmakers created, the acclaimed Georgia-native photographer also created sets of his own. Finding mystery and intrigue from periphery sources, Alex Harris photographed his subjects outside the movie sets, such as bystanders or passing scenery.

Gregory Harris, the High’s Associate Curator of Photography, elaborated on photography’s unique tension between fact and fiction. “Photography can play with the expectation that the photograph tells you facts, tells you the truth about the world,” said Gregory Harris. “[Alex] Harris plays with that by sometimes giving you just that and other times giving you something entirely fabricated.” 

By entering into Alex Harris’s portrait of the South — both factual and mythical — viewers gain a new perspective on the complex region and the interplay between reality and fantasy. “I see a cumulative portrait,” said Alex Harris, “not only of these productions and of the South, but of an idea that has long been celebrated in literature, explored in science and conveyed by philosophers — that is, the ways in which we are all actors in our own lives, creating our sets, practicing our lines, refining our characters, playing ourselves.”

Alex Harris’s “Our Strange New Land” exhibit will be displayed at the High Museum until May 3 as a feature of the museum’s “Picturing the South” project.

I had always told myself that art was out of my grasp: that I would never be able to fully understand or even appreciate it. While I could easily list off countless digits of pi or recall the atomic number of every element on the periodic table, I could hardly name any of the many different artistic techniques or historical periods. 

After reading Steven Naifeh and Gregory White Smith’s “Van Gogh: The Life,” I was amazed to learn my lack of formal art education was a distress I shared with Vincent Van Gogh himself. The beloved artist of classics such as “Sunflowers” and “Starry Night” not only despaired over his lack of knowledge, but he too was troubled by a lack of self confidence. Rejected from galleries, unable to sell his paintings and even expelled from drawing class, Van Gogh’s self-doubt only intensified throughout his frenzied, tumultuous career. 

“When one has many things to think of and to do,” the distraught artist wrote, “one sometimes gets the feeling, ‘Where am I? What am I doing? Where am I going?’ And one’s brain reels.” While the contemporary Impressionist movement praised thin strokes and muted colors, and  Holland’s Golden Age emphasized the technical and realistic Baroque style, Van Gogh painted in thick brush strokes, vivid colors and abstract renderings.

So different were his works, the artist could not relieve his troubled mind. This troubled mind — most notorious for inciting Van Gogh to sever his own ear — was the same mind that fought to find beauty in all that it beheld. At a time in which images of religious icons and portraits of nobility were championed, Van Gogh sought the divine and noble in his everyday life. Most paintings depicted the splendor of cathedrals or the opulence of the mercantile class. Van Gogh’s were filled with simple images of a sower planting his seed or with portraits of ordinary peasants laboring in the fields. Even an evening walk with his father by the heath was enough to captivate the artist’s eager eyes. 

“The sun was setting red behind the pine trees, and the evening sky was reflected in the pools,” the artist wrote about his evening walk. “The heath and the yellow and white and grey sand were so full of harmony and sentiment — see, there are moments in life when everything, within us too, is so full of peace and sentiment, and our whole life seems to be a path through the heath.”

Just as the brain reels with troubles, so too do the winding and convoluted lanes of every heath reel with hesitation. Van Gogh assures us that these winding and convoluted lanes are nevertheless the same lanes in which a path of “peace and sentiment” can be found. 

As I still struggle to overcome my self-imposed hesitations about art, I wonder about all of the many other pursuits — with all of their “peace and sentiment” — are still waiting to be found. How many endeavors do we tell ourselves we cannot grasp, despite these subjects being within our reach?

Even though I still cannot name more than a few of the many different artistic techniques or historical periods ­— nor can I begin to answer questions like those of  “Where am I? What am I doing? Where am I going?” — works of art such as those of Naifeh, Smith and their beloved Van Gogh have captivated my eager eyes and shaped the way I approach the world. Despite any apprehension, works of art have taught me to find the divine and the noble in the everyday as well as the peace and sentiment waiting behind every bend in the heath.

Ever since I was little (at least, more little than I am now in my golden college years), I knew that I had a best friend in L.M. Montgomery’s “Anne of Green Gables.”

I wanted to be just like Anne Shirley — even if she did have red hair that she simply could not imagine away. But how many wonderful visions she could imagine!

I, too, wanted to imagine the white birches of blooming cherry blossoms as “a bride all in white with a lovely misty veil.” I, too, wanted to imagine the romance of not walking along the main road to attend to my daily errands, but along dreamy places like “Lover’s Lane and Willowmere and Violet Vale and the Birch Path.”

Anne did not just kept her fanciful visions to herself, but she shared her imagination with those around her — even if they did go unappreciated. I have yet to find a better answer to a casual “How are you?” than Anne’s solemn response of “I am well in body although considerably rumpled up in spirit, thank you, ma’am.”

What was the exact cause that turned Anne’s ever-optimistic spirit into a state of such ruffledness? “You’d be excited, too,” Anne explained, “if you were going to meet a little girl you hoped to be your bosom friend.” Even the faintest promise of opportunity could stir up such excitement for the starry-eyed tenant of Green Gables.

This same starry-eyed Anne — the one whose image of the world is so full of fancy, and the one whose spirit leaps at the chance of friendship — is not a cape-wearing crimefighter nor a wand-carrying wizard. There is nothing remarkable about this Anne besides her imagination — and there is nothing I believe to be more remarkable than that: to have the imaginative spirit to always see the world for its best, and to share that hopeful vision with others.

Throughout my formal education I have been fortunate enough to learn so much about the world: about object oriented programming, matrix transformations, carbon cycles, capital markets and more. But in no class have I learned more — nor been quite as intrigued — than in my favorite past-time of reading.

It is literature that has most shaped my vision of the world: of seeing the beauty in blossoming trees or the romance in daily experiences. It is literature that has most stirred my excitement at the promise of every opportunity. Just as the value of the practical information taught in schools should not be discounted, the wisdom found within literature should also not be discredited, as knowledge can be found from more sources than just the credits that count towards graduation.

As the semester picks up and I find myself reading mostly textbooks or assigned supplements, I know there is still more for me to learn about the world — more than could be learned from another class, or even one more book. In the words of my literary heroine Anne, “Isn’t it splendid to think of all the things there are to find out about? It just makes me feel glad to be alive — it’s such an interesting world.”

On Sept. 20, the Student Center Program Council (SCPC) hosted its annual Georgia Tech Night at Six Flags. This signature event, offering discounted tickets and free transportation, drew around 5,000 members Tech community for an exclusive experience at one of Atlanta’s most popular destinations.

“Six Flags is one of my favorite Georgia Tech traditions,” said SCPC President Andrew Dinka. “It might not be as wacky as RAT caps or Midnight Bud, but, like those, it’s one of many things that really help connect our whole community and make Tech a little more like home.”

For some students, Tech is geographically located not too far away from home. 2nd-year CS Emma Barron is one such student, who grew up in a neighboring suburb of Atlanta and had even been to Six Flags before GT Night.

Barron shared how her latest experience at the amusement park differed from a previous visit.

“I had a great time,” Barron said. “Previously, I’d only been to Six Flags with my family. We went once during the summer. It was hot and crowded, with long lines. I had a good time, but I didn’t think I’d come back. However, GT Six Flags night was an opportunity to go off-campus with my friends and do something fun … I had never been to an amusement parks with any of my friends from college.”

For other students, Tech is located thousands of miles away from home. To travel back home to China, 2nd-year CE major Shuangyue Cheng must first travel through 12 time zones and cross hemispheres before arriving home. For Cheng, GT Night at Six Flags served as her first time at the amusement park.

“GT Night at Six Flags is definitely a good experience, especially for international students. As far as I know, many Chinese students only go to Six Flags once throughout the school year, which happens at the GT night.

“It’s like a fall outgoing event for all of us to take a breath in busy school days and makes me and my friends closer through the exciting rides. It is really amazing to meet people you know anywhere in the park,” said Cheng.

“The most rewarding part of any event, big or small, is when we see someone who catches their breath, makes a friend, smiles a bit, and — for even a small moment — feels a little extra joy in their day,” President Dinka said.

“I’m really proud of the work we do, but we also know that we can always reach more students, try new events, and do more to have an even greater impact on campus.”

SCPC’s next events will include a private screening of Joker at Landmark’s Midtown Art Cinema on Oct. 3 as well as a week of festivities leading up to Homecoming.

Known for its burgers, fries, and famed “What’ll ya have?,” The Varsity has attracted Tech students for decades. What most students have yet to discover is that the long-running drive-in not only serves appetizers with its meals, but also artwork.

While many artists prefer to work at countryside villas, Chris McLaughlin set up his studio in the heart of Atlanta. He arrived to the heavily-trafficked Varsity soon after the 1996 Olympics arrived just blocks away from The Varsity. It was during this booming time for the city that McLaughlin began selling his art to the tourists and locals of Atlanta.

In an interview with The Technique, McLaughlin explained how his career with art began long before Atlanta witnessed the historic lighting of the Olympic flame.

“I started in 2nd grade,” McLaughlin said. “On my way to school, there was a barn that I loved to draw: it just captured my fancy. I would go by that barn everyday and that became a subject for me to draw.”

The child who enjoyed sitting at the top of a hill to draw the barn below had no way of knowing that same barn would burn in an act of arson just years later. McLaughlin still has a black-and-white photo of his beloved building that dates back to the 1960s, as well as his childhood sketches that give the barn new life.

The episode of the burning barn began the artist’s long career in archiving the ever-changing landscapes and infrastructures of cities: McLaughlin’s detailed drawings of iconic monuments and scenes of Atlanta reveal how much the city has changed throughout his over 50 years as an artist. His older works feature relics of the past, from buildings that have been demolished for newer construction to cars that have been replaced by advanced models.

In recreating these older works of his, McLaughlin cited Tech’s database of images that are available through the Department of Facilities Management. Mclaughin not only took images from the Archives collection, but he also added his own with his drawings of the Greyhound Bus Station that no longer exists, the old Piedmont Hospital of the 1950s, and the pre-renovated Hotel Clermont.

“I used to look up the old pictures in the Archives collection [at Tech], but of course there’s a digital library now,” he laughed. “I’ve got some good, old pictures of Georgia Tech from the early 1900s.”

McLaughlin’s art not only focuses on the monuments of Atlanta, but also on smaller towns across the Southeast, automobiles, aircrafts, drive-in theaters, international destinations, and more. The artist discussed the way in which these works changed his perspective on the world around him, citing the power of observation.

“I’m always observing stuff, like how I did when I was a kid with that barn,” McLaughlin said. “I walk around the town, and I observe things.”

Chris McLaughlin still works at The Varsity, where students can not only meet him and view his collection, but can also observe the familiar surroundings of Atlanta with a new historical perspective.

3D printers, saws, drills, oscilloscopes, multimeters and waveform generators are just a few of the tools available at the Interdisciplinary Design Commons (IDC) for no or little cost. In addition to equipment, the IDC is also home to The Hive, a completely student-run and volunteer-based organization that works out of the makerspace to help students with any project – both academic and personal.

In celebration of the upcoming one-year anniversary of The Hive, the Technique chatted with Hiba Moraley, a 2nd-year ECE Master student who cofounded the organization back in 2016.

“Our purpose is to provide hands-on learning to all Georgia Tech students, regardless of their major or technical background or anything like that,” Moraley said. “We really want to provide a space where anyone can just walk in and say, ‘Hey, I really want to build something. Can you guys help me with this?’”

As part of The Hive’s vision, there are approximately 140 volunteers that serve as Peer Instructors (PIs) to assist the users who walk in asking for help. These PIs serve as experts in their technical fields ­— fields which include Laser Cutting, Embedded Systems, Machine Shop (wood & metal-working) and PCB Fabrication.

Second-year CS major Abhay Cashikar works as the Master Peer Instructor for Embedded Systems. He described his position as helping users with the logistics of their projects, explaining how many students struggle to unite the technical aspect of their input with the tangible result of their output.

Cashikar spoke about the different reasons which bring users into The Hive, as well his personal reasons to utilize the makerspace.

“There are people who come in for labs, and there are also people who come in for personal projects, like trying to work on a prototype for some business idea. For the past week, I have been working on trying to move these mounting holes on my bike by making a CAD model and 3D printing it. That’s been a struggle, I’m on [revision] four,” he laughed.

In addition to providing equipment and expertise, The Hive also offers free workshops throughout the year in which participants can take home their projects. Previous workshops have included collaborating with HackGT, creating electronic sculptures, or even soldering for a Valentine.

Second-year BME Mary Kate Gale shared her thoughts about attending her first ever workshop this past Valentine’s Day.

“Going into this workshop, I had never soldered before,” said Gale. “I had signed up on a whim — it’s unlike me to jump into new things like that, but I’m very glad I did. The workshop itself was fascinating. I feel like I don’t get to do hands-on tasks and projects very much anymore — since middle school, education has been about the conveyance of information rather than creation, for the most part. This was a refreshing way to build something again!”

For both experienced builders and hopeful candidates, The Hive offers the opportunity to turn ideas into projects: to walk in with a question and to leave with a creation.

The first workshop will be held on Sept. 3 at 6 p.m.