Clarity

ESPR is a place for you to experiment with yourself and expand your comfort zone. It’s like a bunch of nerds in a sandbox, as Rachel says. You could think of it as free therapy, because there are 50 people around you who all really care about helping you solve your problems, for at least those 10 days — thinking outside the box and putting their problem solving skills to real-world use, to give you new ideas. You are encouraged to introspect and interact with other people almost nonstop, but rather you want to, because this is one of the only times when you’ll be able to get to the core of someone so interesting so quickly. It’s so judgement-free that you can ask someone what they are currently struggling with, and they will likely respond truthfully. You are taught some interesting ideas, such as that statistics can contain a lot of lies, and that the pull of excellence¹ over self-fulfillment is stopping many talented people from achieving their greatest potentials.

The best part of it was the people. Most of them had a huge amount of ambition, which you could see in the way they talked and in their eyes — like they’re living life on steroids, more alive than the average person. But despite all the ambition related to startups, AI safety, research, effective altruism, garnering experience, etc., it was also one of the most caring places I’ve been in. So many people, especially Andromeda and Helena, are absolute angels. If you mentally picture someone who has cool confidence — like extremely cultured, sophisticated, and capable and thus slightly unapproachable — and then change that to warm confidence, you get them. Hardly ever have I known people so talented and yet so willing to spread their talents to others; gatekeeping nothing and desiring to help people become better, rather than staying better than people. People who see your reluctance to do something that you think is too difficult, and prove you wrong by teaching you to do the exact thing and thus redefining your comfort zone. People who think outside the box in their methods of caring for people, from running activities that they think the shyer campers will particularly enjoy, to thanking people who have been rather overlooked. People who manage to always find a way, and not get discouraged. People who you look at and think, “one can do that?!”

Everyone seemed so social and full of ideas, to the point where I felt at first like I didn’t belong, for I was simply not social enough. This hit especially hard on the 4th day, when I severely doubted that anyone would be interested in having 1-on-1 conversations — which are a big part of the camp — with me.² I feared that I was viewed as too nerdy and boring to be part of this extremely elite group of people. That night, I wandered into an empty room, and on a whim decided to write on a whiteboard something of the sort “I want to talk to people, but I don’t think they want to talk to me”. I’m not sure how my thoughts caused this action because it is kind of passive-aggressive… but I was walking around the empty room, marker in hand, when my angelic roommate Jessica entered and asked what I was doing. She is the definition of sunshine; always with such an upbeat personality, really just enjoying life for what it is, and she can always make you feel better about yourself while also not requiring that you be an amazing person. I said “oh, nothing” and put the marker away, and we both went into another room and talked about imposter syndrome with someone else — it turned out that many people at the camp were feeling imposter syndrome. I never did write on that whiteboard, thankfully. Jessica might have been the only person who could have stopped me from writing on the whiteboard at that moment, and somehow it happened.

And then I realized that the camp itself was a test to see if you can belong. Almost no one feels like they belong at first, but eventually you realize that the way to belong is to pretend like you belong: Pretend to be social, and you will. Pretend to be confident, and you will, like Andromeda says. Pretend to extract and understand the meaning of the classes, and you will. Belonging is an art that requires observation and effort alone. From then on, I wasn’t being the type of person who I wanted to be — the type of person that I saw everywhere around me — without thinking. I was putting in a lot of effort and thought, and I think it was working.

About halfway through, I realized that ESPR was the first community since MOP 2023 in which I felt like I was actually on the same wavelength as everyone else. I do have a chaotic and degenerate side that has developed over time, but it’s very nuanced and doesn’t match most peoples’ chaotic sides, for example I dislike dirty humor, video games, and spamming catchphrases. ESPR was the first place in a while where I felt comfortable being my entire self, rather than simply pretending to be my put-together side as I often do. Somehow, there were actually other people who were the same type of chaotic and degenerate as I am. A few days into camp, quite a lot of people including me became addicted to an extremely simple and rather stupid physical game, which one could argue involves much social deduction, and I felt for once like I enjoyed the same type of brainless activity as other people. On the second-to-last day, I played an obscure NCS song that I liked, and the two people next to me started singing along to it, which surprised and delighted me a huge amount. ESPR was the first time ever when I have felt confident singing and dancing with other people. It was also my first time ever doing some other things, such as climbing trees, becoming partially covered in mud, running barefoot on grass, and walking into the ocean. Many of these things would not have happened without encouragement from other people, and the understanding that ESPR is a place to try new things… if you don’t try something new at ESPR then you have failed, and if you succeed at everything then you have also failed.

During the all-nighter yesterday, some of the more adventurous campers led a group trip to a nearby lake, which involved crossing a semi-wet log that scared some not-very-outdoorsy souls like me, but we managed with help from the extremely caring leaders. On the walk back, we spun around in circles at 4am until we got dizzy. I slept for about 10 hours straight on the plane ride back³, and then upon landing in Los Angeles, my steps were slightly wobbly as if the world were still spinning. As if maybe ESPR never ended. But in fact it never did end, because the second part of it is seeing if I can apply the skills I learned to my normal daily life — analyzing the meaning of my actions and where my thoughts come from, thinking deeply about what’s stopping me, and being a rational agent. ESPR will go on forever, because the entirety of life is a test of belonging, and everywhere is a place where you can experiment with yourself and expand your comfort zone. ESPR is only the beginning.

1. the commonplace idea of “success”, AKA money, status, fame, etc

2. it turned out that very soon afterward several people asked me for 1-on-1 conversations, so I had been overly anxious as always

3. which is why I’m awake at 3am writing this