Amsterdam Ave. at night. Photo credit: Kristian Woerner.
Recently, I’ve found myself pondering the question: Why am I writing a thesis?
Now, I don’t think that there’s any specific right or wrong answer to this question. For some, writing a thesis is a natural extension of a project they have already been working on for a while. For others, the thesis is an opportunity to take a topic or research question of interest that they have always been intrigued by but never had the chance to pursue and to devote a significant amount of time to developing this project. Still others might have a personal connection to their topic of choice.
I think the answer to “why am I writing a thesis?” is going to be unique for everyone. And, despite the fact that I don’t believe there to be any right or wrong answers to this question, I have found myself questioning why it is that I’m writing a thesis and questioning if I chose the “right” topic.
In a utilitarian sense, the thesis writing process is a fantastic opportunity to pursue a project of a larger scale than is typically permitted in regular courses. No matter the department you might be interested in writing your thesis with, it will undoubtedly be a process that improves skills of organization, writing and researching with a project of substantial scope. It has already been the case that I have encountered challenges in writing my thesis that I have not encountered in other courses, suggesting that I am actually gaining something unique from this project.
Another answer is that, by the time I complete my undergraduate experience, I want to have something to show for it. Now, I mean this in the very specific sense of a desire to have a substantial, tangible project that represents a culmination of sorts of my undergraduate experience. I have written papers that I am proud of and I have gotten grades on exams that I am proud of. I’m proud of myself for being a student at Columbia and I will be proud of myself quite simply for finishing my undergraduate degree. After all, that’s no simple task. But, for me personally, it still feels like something is missing.
The catch is that using my thesis as a marker of completion of my undergraduate experience has left me obsessing over if I picked the “right” topic. If I want my project to be this idealistic capstone, then it had better be on the perfect topic. The reality? I like my topic. I think it’s quite interesting. But I don’t wake up every single morning excited to get to reading and writing. And, that’s ok.
Maybe it’s not just that there’s no right or wrong answer to why I’m writing a thesis, but that the answer doesn’t even have to matter. I’m finishing up my ten-page proposal this week — a task that seemed daunting but turned out to be not nearly as bad as I anticipated. In being forced to articulate exactly what my project is and how I intend to accomplish it, I’m left feeling like maybe it’s ok to not know exactly why I’m doing this. My project aims to expand the source base typically used to write histories of mathematics from archives dedicated solely to mathematicians and mathematics, to include what little information about mathematics has been preserved in archives with different focuses. It’s a small contribution to history. But, no matter what contribution to a subject I might be able to make with a thesis, the ability to articulate a contribution, any contribution, is enough. The simple fact that I’m writing a thesis because it is an opportunity available to me, is enough. And, no matter what I’m writing about, it will both contribute to the field of my choosing and be a valuable experience for me.