"Twin Spotlights"

By Harry Arabian

On a quiet summer morning, the weight of the inbox felt no different than usual—until it wasn’t. Two envelopes, one marked with the sleek STMicroelectronics logo and the other emblazoned with Northeastern University’s seal, lay atop a cluttered desk of datasheets, circuit boards, and half-finished coffee.

The first letter brought a wide, proud smile. STMicro, a company whose components he had woven into the very DNA of his engineering career, invited him to deliver a presentation at their Innovations Day, held during the prestigious Embedded Conference at Boston’s Hynes Auditorium. He had been on a long road with STMicro—an early adopter of their technologies, from Smart Power systems to STM32 microcontrollers and secure NFC-based solutions. These were not just parts; they were partners in design, companions in late-night technical marathons.

He remembered the thrill of integrating environmental sensors—temperature, humidity, air quality—into early product prototypes. The satisfaction of seeing STMicro's motor control chips drive precision automation in drone systems. The quiet pride of helping secure IoT devices with their microcontrollers, long before cybersecurity became a buzzword. These weren’t just technologies; they were stories, chapters in his life. To be on the STMicro roaster wasn’t just an honor—it was a full-circle moment.

“I could talk for hours,” he thought, glancing at the specs of a pressure sensor pinned to his corkboard. “This isn’t a speech. This is my life.”

Then came the second envelope.

At first glance, he dismissed it as another alumni fundraiser. But when he broke the seal and unfolded the crisp parchment, his pulse quickened. Northeastern University—his alma mater, the place that first taught him to read the language of logic gates and semiconductors—had invited him to speak at their Alumni Tech Talk on the same day. September 15. Just ninety minutes after his STMicro slot.

5:00 p.m., Hynes Auditorium. STMicro.
6:30 p.m., Northeastern Alumni Center. Tech Talk.

And just like that, elation gave way to chaos.

The twin invitations that felt like trophies now clashed like cymbals in his chest. Two proud moments—one professional, one personal—stacked against the cruel geometry of time and space. His hands trembled slightly as he set the letters down. This, he thought, is the paradox of success.

“Why does this always happen to me?” he muttered aloud. He had asked the same question many times—when he missed his daughter’s recital to debug a product on a Friday night, when vacation plans dissolved because a client’s firmware failed in the field, when he stayed up tweaking motor control code instead of helping his son learn to ride a bike.

The path of a dedicated engineer had been paved with dedication, but also sacrifice. Now, the irony: the world finally clapped, but asked him to stand in two places at once.

He stared at the two letters for a long moment. Then he stood, walked to the whiteboard, and wrote out a new plan.

A carefully timed departure from the conference hall. A pre-arranged ride to campus. A shortened Q&A at STMicro with a warm thank-you. A compelling 15-minute walk-through of his journey for the Alumni audience—less technical, more heartfelt. If everything went right, he could pull it off.

He smiled, this time not with pride, but resolve.

September 15 wasn’t a conflict. It was a challenge—a familiar kind. And like every other one he’d faced in his long, winding career, he would design his way through it.