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Jimmy Song

Mechanical Engineer

University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign

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About Me

Professional Bio

I’m Jimmy Song, a mechanical engineering student passionate about product design, manufacturing, and the intersection of engineering and innovation. My experience spans CAD modeling, FEA simulation, and prototyping through both academic and startup projects. I’m driven by a hands-on approach to solving technical challenges — from improving mechanical efficiency to integrating sustainable materials and advanced manufacturing methods. I enjoy transforming concepts into functional, reliable designs that make an impact.

Blog 1

Publish Your Work — and Watch Your “Luck” Grow

I’ve been thinking a lot about how opportunities actually show up in our lives. Sometimes it feels random—like a lucky break, the right person seeing the right thing at the right time.

But after reading GitHub’s guide on Publishing Your Work, I realized something important:
Luck isn’t just luck. It’s exposure.
It’s people actually knowing what you’re working on.

And the only way that happens is if you share what you do.

The Work You Don’t Share… Doesn’t Exist

You can be doing amazing research, building cool apps, solving problems at work, or learning something new every week—but if nobody sees it, it’s like it never happened.

Publishing your work is one of the most underrated ways to create opportunities, and yet it’s something most people rarely do because they feel their projects aren’t “finished” or “good enough” to share. What the GitHub guide makes clear is that luck isn’t always random—often, it comes from visibility, from letting others see what you’re learning, building, or thinking about. When you keep everything tucked away in private folders, no one can discover your ideas, connect with you, or build on what you’ve started; the work might as well not exist. But the moment you begin sharing—even small things like early drafts, half-formed thoughts, simple GitHub repos, research notes, screenshots of progress, or reflections on what you’re struggling with—you expand your “luck surface area,” opening the door to conversations, collaborations, feedback, and opportunities you never could’ve predicted. What’s powerful is that you don’t need a polished final result; people actually enjoy seeing the process and the messy, honest middle stages of a project, because it makes your work relatable and invites dialogue rather than judgment. This is especially true in academic and technical spaces, where openly sharing progress can help you connect with peers, get advice, refine your thinking, or catch the attention of someone working on similar problems. Publishing is really about building a living record of your growth and interests, and by consistently putting your work out into the world, you give others a chance to notice, support, and connect with the things you care about.

Another reason publishing your work matters is that it naturally builds a personal archive you can look back on. It becomes a timeline of what you’ve learned, what you attempted, what you struggled with, and what you eventually mastered. This kind of record is incredibly valuable—not only for others, but for you. When everything lives inside your head or in random files scattered across your laptop, it’s easy to forget how far you’ve come or how much progress you’ve actually made. But when you publish consistently, you create visible proof of your growth. You start to see patterns in your interests, recurring themes in your work, and areas where your thinking has matured. Over time, this archive becomes a portfolio you can share with future collaborators, employers, mentors, or even your future self. And what’s even better is that publishing forces clarity; when you explain something publicly, you understand it more deeply. Writing or documenting your ideas helps refine them, challenge them, and sometimes break them open in ways that wouldn’t have happened if you kept everything private.

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Finally, publishing your work helps you become part of a broader community. Whether you're in tech, design, research, art, or any other field, publicly sharing your process signals that you're engaged and curious—and people gravitate toward that. You might inspire someone who’s stuck on a problem you’ve solved, or you might attract someone who has the exact feedback you need. These interactions compound over time, slowly shaping a network of people who connect with your ideas and appreciate your perspective. And the best part is that you don’t need a huge audience; even a handful of meaningful connections can completely change the trajectory of a project, a career, or a personal interest. Publishing isn’t about becoming famous or going viral—it’s about showing up, being open, and giving your work the chance to create ripples beyond your immediate circle. When you consistently share what you’re working on, you’re not just broadcasting into the void—you’re inviting the world to meet you halfway.

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Call to Action Recap:


Don’t wait for your work to be perfect before you share it. Pick one project, insight, or piece of research you’ve worked on recently and publish something—a short post, a screenshot, a GitHub update, a reflection, anything—within the next week. Treat it as an experiment, not a performance. Show your process, not just polished results. And once you publish, send it to one person who might find it interesting or helpful. Small steps like these dramatically expand your “luck surface area,” helping your ideas reach the people who can amplify, support, or collaborate with you. Start now—your future opportunities depend on the work you choose to share today.

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My Own Takeaways:


What I’ve learned from all of this is that publishing isn’t just about broadcasting my work—it’s about giving myself permission to grow in public. I don’t need to wait for a perfect moment or a perfect product; sharing small, imperfect pieces is far more powerful than hiding everything until it’s polished. I’ve also realized that the world can’t connect with work it never sees, and that opportunities often come from simply showing up and being visible. Every time I publish something—an idea, a project update, even a rough draft—I’m building momentum, creating accountability, and opening the door for people who might resonate with what I’m doing. Most importantly, I’ve learned that publishing is a habit, not an event. It’s something I need to practice regularly if I want to keep expanding my network, clarifying my thinking, and increasing the chances that my work will reach the right people at the right time.

Blog  2

TBD

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