Why This Computer Engineer Wants Physics in Elementary School

Dr. Seyi Ayorinde spends his days staring at black screens filled with green lines, watching ones and zeros cascade like something out of The Matrix. Friends who catch him working often ask if he's hacking into something. In a way, he is—he's architecting the very brain of computers, designing chips that power everything from digital cameras to AI systems.

But when Ayorinde thinks about the future of STEM education, he doesn't start with advanced engineering concepts or cutting-edge technology. He starts with third graders and friction.

"Physics should be required in third grade," Ayorinde says during our conversation for the Juice Box News Podcast. "With no math."

The Accidental Architect

Ayorinde's path to becoming a chip designer wasn't exactly voluntary. "My dad, when I was younger—and this still cracks me up to this day—he was like, 'I don't care what you do, as long as you get a PhD.'"

No pressure.

That parental push led him to Thomas Jefferson High School for Science and Technology in Virginia, then to Davidson College, where a late-night electronics class changed everything. The class focused on the Intel 8085, one of the first processors, and students would stay up all night trying to figure out how to multiply two numbers on what Ayorinde calls a "janky giant board."

"The idea that we can do basically stuff like a million times more complicated on something that's way, way smaller is just like a crazy, crazy idea," he recalls. That fascination drove him through a PhD at the University of Virginia, where he spent six years learning to build the tools that build the chips.

More Than Just Coding

Ask Ayorinde what skills matter most for STEM careers, and his answer might surprise parents pushing their kids toward advanced math camps.

"Debugging is huge," he says. "It's a difficult thing to learn on purpose. There are no debugging classes. It just comes from experience and trying things out."

The reality of chip design work is far from the Hollywood image of genius engineers having sudden breakthroughs. About 85% of Ayorinde's time is spent at a computer, writing code and running simulations. Modern Intel processors contain around 50 billion transistors—nobody's connecting those by hand.

"Stuff doesn't work the first time," he emphasizes. "You've got to keep trying things out. I've seen a lot of people get discouraged in STEM fields and think, 'Let me just go do something else.' But guess what? Everything's hard."

The Physics Problem

Despite holding a physics degree, he believes the way we teach physics is fundamentally broken—and it's scaring away potential STEM talent.

"Whenever I tell people I studied physics, they're always like, 'Why? How?'" he says. "Of all the sciences, it's the most straightforward. I know like ten equations total, probably, and I know how to apply them to a bunch of different problems."

During his year teaching physics at Charlotte Country Day High School, Ayorinde noticed a pattern. When tutoring students, their response to his explanations was almost always: "Oh, that's it?"

"Physics is easy," he insists. "People just intimidate you into thinking it's hard."

His solution? Start with phenomena, not formulas. Talk about friction by rubbing hands together. Discuss light as both a wave and a particle. Drop a ball and talk about gravity. Save the math for later, when students already understand what they're describing.

The Chip Design Identity Crisis

Beyond pedagogy, Ayorinde sees a bigger challenge: visibility. "Kids know what a doctor, a lawyer, and a business person is. No one knows what a chip designer is."

This invisibility problem extends across STEM fields, creating what he calls a "branding issue." While his current work involves building AI chips that use less power than current GPU-hungry systems, most students have no idea such careers even exist.

The irony isn't lost on him. "So much technology is based in chip design," he notes, citing the book "Chip War" as essential reading. Yet the field remains mysteriously absent from career day presentations and guidance counselor recommendations.

Diversity as Innovation Strategy

When discussion turns to diversity, equity, and inclusion in STEM, Ayorinde's frustration is palpable. "If people who were against these policies actually had to say 'Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion' every time they badmouthed it, it would be a lot harder."

He rejects the false choice between diversity and excellence. "There are well-qualified people everywhere. It's just not at the same seven schools that you've always visited when you're hiring."

The real issue, he argues, is effort. Companies need to venture beyond their usual recruiting grounds, educators need to democratize STEM education, and the entire system needs to recognize that diversity of thought leads to better solutions.

The Long Game

Ayorinde's perseverance philosophy extends to his own continuous learning. He just signed up for an intensive refresher course because the field changes so rapidly. "The chip design tools and stuff that was around when I finished grad school is not the same stuff I'm using right now."

For students considering STEM careers, his advice balances realism with encouragement. Yes, it's challenging—his PhD program saw him fail his qualifying exam the first time, and he watched friends complete entire career cycles while he was still in school. But the difficulty isn't unique to STEM.

"Find something you enjoy doing," he advises. During graduate school, he'd find himself working on problems well past the assignment requirements, looking up at 11:30 PM, still in the lab. "If I can get lost doing this, maybe it's something I'll enjoy doing all the time."

Redesigning the Future

As artificial intelligence reshapes education and technology, Ayorinde finds himself at a unique intersection—building the AI chips while watching AI transform his own field. Engineers now use generative AI to scaffold their programs, treating it like "what math teachers thought a calculator was 40 years ago."

"They thought it was cheating," he laughs. "But no—now we can do more stuff."

That same expansive thinking drives his vision for STEM education reform. Make physics accessible to third graders. Show students what chip designers actually do. Visit schools beyond the usual suspects. Most importantly, stop projecting that science is only for geniuses.

"Physics is literally what you see in the world," Ayorinde says. "Physics describes that."

In a field where 50 billion transistors dance on a chip smaller than a fingernail, perhaps the biggest innovation isn't technological—it's educational. By demystifying physics, diversifying recruitment, and making STEM careers visible, we might just build something more powerful than any processor: a generation that sees science not as an intimidating fortress, but as an open door.

After all, someone needs to design the chips that will power tomorrow's world. They just need to know it's possible.

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