I am an inventor. While I have both skill and facility at programming, what is I really love to do is to ask “what if.” Although I tasted of this growing up, I have become more fully aware of it of late. IBM (where I have worked for the past 7 years) has a program to award employees for producing patentable ideas; this induced me to turn my ponderings into practicable (if not yet implemented) ideas. IBM doesn't give me time to prototype these inventions, typically; instead, I submit a disclosure about what might be possible (and how it would be done), and they review it. Some of these disclosures turn into patent applications; some are published into public domain; some are closed as not worthy of protection.
While I appreciate the opportunity for recognition (not to mention the bonuses), I chafe against IBM's demands of confidentiality and their desire to own the intellectual property. I admire the ideals and spirit of the open source community, and would like nothing better than to be able to spend my days thinking up strange ideas, putting them into practice, and then sharing them with others.
To that end, I had in the past considered the potential of getting a Ph.D and becoming a research professor. There, I would have full freedom to explore the fascinating inventions that are computers make possible. Yet I chose not to follow that course, because it seemed selfish to me to make my family pay the high cost (of my absense over the course of years) in order to simply achieve my own aggrandizement.
I am also a minister. My wife and I have been actively involved in a small local church for several years; I was even a lay minister for a short time, before she fell ill and I had to step down. I have long assumed that my computer career was only temporary: “maybe six months from now, maybe 10 years from now,” I would quit my job at IBM and become a full-time minister.
But what would I do, then, with my tremendous love for, and capability with, computers? Surely, I assumed, that the day I quit IBM would be the end of significant programming for me. My wife, reading this, asks, “how would that feel?” and I respond, “God could take a leg, if he wanted, and I would give it, but it would hurt. I'd rather he take a leg than that he take computers.”
I think that perhaps I am also a teacher. I am far less clear on this part of my identity; my whole experience with teaching consists of a few tutoring jobs I've done over the years, and my attempts to explain my inventions to my wife. Emily is a painter, and has a strong aversion to all things computer; I count it a great testament to my teaching ability (and patience) that she now has a good understanding of the UNIX process/virtual memory model, and can understand how my latest invention (which I call “subcontexts”) fit into that world.
Until very recently, I have been at a loss how to integrate these parts of my identity. But sometime early this summer, I realized that they could all come together in a role as a teaching professor of computer science. I could be a computer scientist; doing some little research projects on the side; I could be a mentor to the kids, building into their lives; and, hopefully, I could be an effective teacher.
I am excited; my wife is excited; the people who know me best are excited. There is a broad consensus that this is a good path for me. So I immediately signed up for classes at the UofA; my long term goal is to pursue a Master's Degree, immediately followed by a Doctorate, after which I hope to teach computer science, most likely at Pima or technical schools at first, but, I hope, eventually at the UofA.
I have a problem, however. You can see this problem easily in my application, and you probably recognize my type. I am highly intelligent and capable at computer science, but I chose to be the poorest of students during my undergraduate work. I don't have any way to hide that, but I now choose to live differently. I am resolved to be the best of students this time around. I am resolved to do all in my power to excel. I am resolved to pursue this degree.
I would find it quite understandable if you chose to reject my application at this time. Right now, all you have to go on is my GRE scores and a few weeks of classtime. I hope that that is enough, but I understand if it is not. But let me say this: I intend to stick with this. Sonia tells me that I can take 12 credits of Graduate studies before I officially enter the program; therefore, if necessary, I will apply the next 4 semesters, hoping that I get in eventually. Failing that, I will start taking Undergraduate courses, attempting to overwrite my poor record. Eventually, you guys are going to let me in. My hope is that you save us all the trouble and do it this semester.
Most sincerley and respectfully,
Russ Lewis, Inventor