The other day, I took an econ midterm. We were tested on how well we knew the concepts and whether or not we could use the methods. Painful to study for, stressful to take. Contrast that with a computer-music class I’m also taking: instead of tests, we use what we’re shown in class to compose cool computer-music pieces. At the end, we don’t just have a grade, but a little portfolio of interesting recordings. Which method do you think is more enjoyable and ultimately more effective? This pedagogical example is just one illustration of something broader I want to get at: the awesomeness of creation.

Why do I bring it up? I think we often let originality go to the wayside. It takes time and effort to build things. In society’s school-to-career-to-retirement pipeline, we can easily find ourselves simply going with the flow. You take the classes, study for the tests, apply for the jobs, do the work and do fine. But wouldn’t you want to create things along the way?

Creativity is a powerful type of satisfaction. Sure, some people innovate to satisfy their ego: they want the immortality of leaving a mark on the world. But I think more fundamentally, it makes us feel efficacious. We have this life force—should we just use it to eat, sleep and be entertained, or can we use it to grab the universe and turn it into something?

I usually use these columns to focus on improving the music situation at Stanford, and there are plenty of avenues for creativity there. Earlier, I wrote about “guerrilla musicians,” practicing their instruments in random places to liven up the atmosphere. And I’ve discussed how musicians are usually trained to regurgitate music rather than compose their own, so instead, every music lesson should include some improvisation work.

But improving music on campus doesn’t have to be done exclusively by the musicians. Engineers could build interesting sonic installments around campus, for example. I’ve seen videos of places where people have built piano staircases where each step is a note. Or, to borrow a friend’s idea, imagine if there were little speakers in White Plaza that played snippets of music recorded from the practice rooms in Braun.

Recreational musicians too can come up with something satisfying. Dust off the instrument under your bed and play around for a few minutes. Get a friend and write a little song. Open up GarageBand and hit record. You might think it’s terrible, but think of it as a doodle. With enough doodles, occasionally you draw a cool picture.

And for those who aren’t into writing music, you have plenty of options for creation too. Instead, when you write that paper, don’t think of the teacher as the only audience. Or with that econ class, maybe write about economics in a student publication. Develop that screenplay you’ve been talking about. Build a DIY bookshelf. Whatever. Make things that you’ll feel satisfied about—don’t just go through the paces of education.

With so much said about a “consumerist” culture, I think it’s time we realign towards a “creationist” culture. Not “how we got here” biblical creationism, but “where should we go next” creationism.

If we want that kind of creative world, we’ll need more forgiveness. Because when we hold high expectations on quality, we can find ourselves being mean critics. Giving constructive feedback is fine, but it should be coupled with enthusiastic encouragement; originality is for everyone. Google famously gives employees 20 percent of their time devoted to passion projects. What if Stanford, or even all of society, worked like that? Instead of just weekends to relax, we took a whole week off each year to go out and create things.

Now, this is my last column. It’s been a good quarter for me of op-ed creativity about music. But before I return to writing music itself, I want to encourage anyone else who cares about music on campus to not wait until senior year (like I did) to get more involved. There’s always more to do.

But most of all, enjoy the music.

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