More Than a Degree: Reflections on My Time in the Master of Artificial Intelligence and Machine Learning

15 Mar

Written By mitsa

Opinion Piece

Tomorrow I graduate from the Master of Artificial Intelligence and Machine Learning. Looking back, my path into the degree was not exactly straightforward.

After cancer treatment, I was trying to work out what kind of future would be sustainable for me while managing some of the long-term side effects that came with it. At different points I considered becoming a doctor, and even thought about astrophysics. Eventually, though, I landed in artificial intelligence and machine learning because it offered something powerful: the ability to lean into health, solve meaningful problems, and build a career that could be flexible enough to work from anywhere.
When I first entered the AIML program, I expected a well-structured course. The reality was not quite that simple. Coming from a non-coding background made the transition challenging, and I think the program could be difficult for students who had not previously studied computer science or programming. There were some overlapping themes across the curriculum and, at times, it felt like the structure was still evolving.
At the same time, AI is a rapidly emerging field, and the program itself was still relatively new. Some teething issues were probably inevitable. Despite the challenges, the degree still gave me the skills and foundation I needed to continue building a career in AI and machine learning.
Use your diary well and stick to time blocking. It makes a huge difference.
Do not be afraid to ask questions, seek support, or give feedback, because that is genuinely essential. If staff or academics cannot take on feedback well that is their problem to work on not yours!
Also be realistic about workload. As a rough guide, each subject can easily take around 10 hours a week. So if you are studying four subjects and also working 24 hours a week, you are potentially carrying a 64-hour week. That is a lot.
Be honest with yourself about capacity, and make sure you protect time for your physical and mental health, because both are vital. Your physical and mental health are a must without them you cannot work or study.

**Your physical and mental health are a must without them you cannot work or study.**

~Grant Freeman

“What that showed me is that universities still have a long way to go when it comes to building genuine student trust.”

— Grant Freeman

Alongside my studies, I stepped into the role of Academic Student Representative (ASR). One of the reasons I chose to do this is because being a student can be incredibly intimidating. Speaking up often comes with a deep fear: fear that raising an issue could impact your grades, your academic future, your visa status, or even your future career. Many students worry that speaking up might label them as difficult or as a troublemaker.
I saw firsthand how hesitant students were to raise concerns, even when something genuinely was not right. Underneath everything was the same question: if I say something, what happens next? I wanted to step into the ASR role so students had a voice, and so they knew they did not have to navigate those situations alone.
One group that particularly stood out to me was international students. Many of them carry an enormous amount of pressure. They worry that speaking up could impact their visa, their grades, their academic trajectory, or their ability to find work after graduating. Because of that, many relied on me to advocate on their behalf.
What that showed me is that universities still have a long way to go when it comes to building genuine student trust.
Even for me as an advocate, speaking up was not easy. Not all academics or staff want to hear feedback, and there were moments where I worried about how advocacy might affect my own time as a student or even my future in industry. There were staff interactions I walked away from feeling genuinely sad, because they reflected exactly why students are often so afraid to speak up in the first place. At times, that made the ASR role incredibly difficult.
Be affirmative, ask for help early, and know your support pathways from the start. Find out who you can report inappropriate interactions to, where you can seek guidance, and what support exists if issues arise.
I also think ASRs need more structured development, including monthly workshops and leadership training, because student advocacy is a skill that deserves support. There were times I felt unheard, and that made the role much harder than it needed to be. In my view, it would be valuable to have a staff member fully dedicated to supporting ASRs, because student representatives receive a huge amount of feedback and important issues can easily get lost without proper support and follow-through.
Most importantly, focus on the positive difference you can make. Not every contribution has to be huge to matter. Sometimes small, practical improvements can have a real impact on the student experience. And when things get tough, remember why you became an ASR in the first place.
You do not need to solve everything, but you do need to know where to take things.

Out of hearing about the student experience came MiTSA — the Masters in Technology Student Association.
MiTSA was formed off the back of my work as an ASR and through Succeed @ Adelaide. Those roles gave me a direct window into what students were actually needing, not just academically, but socially and professionally as well. Creating MiTSA allowed me to take student feedback and turn it into real initiatives, whether that was industry nights, seminars, networking events, or social gatherings.
What felt most transformative was the ability to hear what students were asking for and then build programs they genuinely connected with.
At the same time, this journey taught me a lot about leadership — and about my own limits.
In some ways, I took on too much. Over the course of my time in student leadership I received an enormous amount of feedback — tens of thousands of messages and hundreds upon hundreds of face-to-face conversations. That meant learning boundaries. It meant developing resilience and courage.
I care deeply about people and about students, but I also learned that I could not carry the weight of everyone.
At times I had to let some people go, not because I wanted to, but because there is only so much one person can hold. I also had to learn to live with criticism, gossip, and disagreement. Even when I asked the broader cohort what they wanted and tried to follow the majority view, there were still students I could not make happy.
One of the hardest lessons of leadership is realising that no matter how much you care, it is impossible to please everyone.
As a leader, one of the biggest things I am still working on is not overthinking what others think or say about me. Leadership inevitably comes with criticism, and I want to keep building the confidence to stand by my values even when not everyone agrees.
I also need to say no more often. I care deeply about people, but I have learned that trying to make everyone happy is neither realistic nor sustainable. Part of leadership is accepting that you cannot please everyone, and that this is okay.
Another area I have had to work on is trusting others to step up. At times, I took on too much responsibility myself rather than letting others carry their share. Learning to delegate better, trust people more, and not feel like I have to hold everything on my own is still an important growth area for me.
I have also had to learn how to separate criticism from my own self-worth. Over time, I received an enormous amount of feedback — honestly, more than anyone should probably receive in a lifetime. Not all of it was positive. Some of it was highly critical, and that took a real toll on how I viewed myself and my leadership. I have always actively sought feedback because I genuinely want to improve, but the volume and intensity of it did affect my self-worth at times. Even so, for the most part, I tried to take that feedback on constructively and use it to refine my leadership skills.
I also learned that because I had taken on so much feedback myself, the feedback I gave to others was often small by comparison. It was not my job to make other people better at receiving feedback (that is for them to own just as it was my own); it was my job to communicate honestly and constructively. That was an important lesson.
Another critical lesson for me has been around boundaries, specifically respecting other people’s time. Early on, I was so focused on keeping things moving that I would often contact people on weekends or after hours. Through honest feedback, I learned that people need genuine space to switch off. Since then, I have leaned heavily on 'scheduled send' and make it a rule to respect the 5 PM boundary and protect people's weekends. I am still refining this, but it has taught me that true leadership is just as much about respecting the wellbeing and capacity of others as it is about driving results
Overall, I think I am learning that leadership is not just about hard work and good intentions. It is also about confidence, boundaries, trust, delegation, and the ability to keep criticism in perspective without letting it define your worth.

“Do not just aim to be good at your studies. Be good at the human side too..”

— Grant Freeman

If there is one thing I would ask of staff and academics reading this, it is simple: help students feel safe enough to speak up.
Even today, students still reach out to me about issues because they trust me. What comes through again and again is fear. Students are often deeply scared to raise concerns, to question decisions, or even to share their experiences. This is especially true for students with disability support plans, many of whom worry that disclosing their needs could lead to discrimination or affect their future employment prospects.
One of the most powerful things academics can do is reassure students that speaking up will not come at the cost of their academic future. When a student provides feedback, it should be received with gratitude. It takes a great deal of courage to do so.
Staff also need to ask for feedback more often. Feedback should not only come through formal university surveys. This is not just for academics but staff that work behind the scenes too. Regular check-ins, open conversations, and simple feedback channels can make a huge difference.
Good teaching and good science cannot be separated from emotional intelligence, soft skills, and the ability to receive feedback well. They run in parallel. When students are silenced, pushed out, or made to feel unsafe, universities lose valuable talent, perspectives, and lived experience.
During my time as an Academic Student Representative, I was exposed to a huge volume of feedback, concerns, and personal stories from students. It was far more than I ever expected when I stepped into the role. At times it felt like carrying the weight of hundreds of voices, messages, and difficult conversations, and that had a real emotional impact on me.
I also experienced moments where speaking up felt uncomfortable or confronting. Giving honest feedback in complex systems is not always easy, and there were times when I worried about how that feedback would be received. I never stepped into the role with the intention of hurting anyone or creating conflict. My motivation was always to improve systems so students could give feedback safely and feel supported in their academic journey.
Even now, I sometimes carry the worry that not everyone received that feedback well. That fear is something many students experience too. In fact, it is one of the reasons students often hesitate to speak up in the first place. Advocacy requires courage, but it also requires environments where feedback can be received constructively.
What I learned from those experiences is that universities still have work to do in building cultures where feedback can flow safely in both directions. When students raise concerns, it should not feel like they are putting their future at risk.
Despite those challenges, I still believe strongly in the importance of student advocacy. Speaking up for students matters, even when it is uncomfortable. My intention was never to get anyone in trouble or cause harm. It was always about improving systems so students could raise concerns safely and feel supported. At times, however, I did feel the personal cost of advocacy. There were moments where I felt excluded, misunderstood, or treated differently, and those experiences added to the emotional weight of the role.
Be yourself, but do not exclude others. Learn how to receive feedback well, and if that does not come naturally, work on it deliberately. It is a skill, and an important one.
Do not just aim to be good at your studies. Be good at the human side too. Soft skills, emotional intelligence, and the ability to work well with others matter just as much as academic performance.
Be proud of who you are. Surround yourself with positive, uplifting people. Stay away from gossip, and remember that you will never make everyone happy, and that is okay. Focus on doing your own work with integrity. Do not copy others, and be transparent about the use of AI by acknowledging and citing it appropriately.
Most of all, be comfortable being yourself — whatever your sex, sexuality, religion, or background. And in the same breath, be willing to make room for others to be fully themselves too. We do better, both professionally and personally, when people feel accepted, respected, and safe to belong.
And if you step into leadership, remember this: communicate, communicate, communicate. As a general rule, try to get back to people within 24 hours where you can. Do not be passive or passive-aggressive. Give feedback directly, respectfully, and at the time it is needed, not weeks later when frustration has built up. And always remember that there are two sides to every story. Good leadership is not just about being heard; it is also about listening well, acting fairly, and creating space for people to speak honestly.
Be strong in your studies, but even stronger in your character.

Yesterday, I made the proud decision to finally begin speaking more openly about who I am. I have always identified within the LGBTIQ community, but for a long time, I was too scared to talk about it in my role as an ASR. During my time as a representative, I heard disdain towards the gay community than I ever should have, sometimes even from people right around me, and that made it so much harder to just be myself. It added a heavy, invisible weight to an already demanding journey a demanding role. A weight no one saw and a weight I carried by myself.

But today, I am stepping into living authentically again. Here is to being fully myself. I hope that by doing so, I can give someone else the courage to live their authentic self, too.

But you know what?

I graduate. We graduate. And for those still on the path—your time is coming too.

I did it. You did it.

But today, I am stepping into living authentically again.

~Grant Freeman

It was not easy. There were setbacks, pressure, fear, growth, and moments where the weight of it all felt enormous. But I am proud — proud of what was built, proud of the students I had the privilege to represent, and proud of the positive change that came from listening, caring, and refusing to give up.

Now I step into a new chapter as I begin my PhD. It is exciting, a little daunting, and full of unknowns. But this degree means far more to me than a qualification. It represents resilience. It represents growth. It represents courage. It represents choosing to keep going, even when things were hard.

To everyone who was part of this journey, and to everyone still walking beside me now: thank you.

To those I may have hurt along the way, I am genuinely sorry. That was never my intention.

And to everyone still studying, still fighting, still doubting themselves, still trying to find where they belong — keep going. Be proud of who you are. Take up space. Back yourself.

Your degree matters, but so does the person you become while earning it. And if you have made it this far, trust me — you are already stronger than you think.