Over and Out

It’s quiet on campus. A little too quiet, actually, because the school year is over, and most everyone is home, with the exception of the senior class of 2015. It’s my last night as a student here– after four years, three summers, and one Early Decsion application, my time here has abruptly come to an end.

Graduation was always an if, something to consider as purely theoretical, a point somewhere far in the future that I knew as would someday approach, but never actually considered what it would feel like. I never considered what it would be like to tell people I went to William& Mary, I graduated with a degree in English, everything in past tense, everything a recollection of what I used to be– a student at the College of William & Mary, instead of an alum.

I know what that feels like now, because tomorrow I walk across campus with my classmates and closest friends, dressed in academic regalia, and I will hear those words, as we are released into the world: congratulations, graduates. You did it. You made it.

I’m excited, I am– I’m so hopeful for everything that is to come in my life, and the unfamiliar terrain I have yet to conquer, the life I’m just preparing to set out on now. But I can’t step into my new, “adult” life without first reflecting on where I have been, on how I somehow arrived at the confluence of childhood and adulthood, and the four years that bridged them.

I have always believed that there was magic here at William & Mary. The people I have met here are the best, brightest, most caring, most inspirational I have ever known, and it has been a true honor to be a part of such a distinguished community. I have never seen a place more beautiful, more picturesque than these grounds; I have memorized all the quirks of this campus, the way the light filters through the trees, the varying shades of red brick, and the complicated layout of the Wren building. I have grown in ways I never could have anticipated on the eve of my freshman year; from homesickness, to bad grades, to illness, I have faced the bad times with a courage granted to me by virtue of this place, just as I have loved the good. I have felt fortunate to be here every day of the last four years, and William & Mary — and its people– is almost entirely responsible for the person I have become. One of my greatest fears tonight, on the eve of graduation, is that I will never be able to recreate the family and the community that I have been so lucky to find here, and the community and sense of belonging that is so uniquely W&M.

Tomorrow, when I walk across the Crim Dell bridge and step into the next phase of my life, I know I will not forget where I come from. I won’t forget the campus traditions, the formals, Convocations, and lazy days at Lake Matoaka, the people who loved me for who I am, and who see the potential for who I will one day become. As I leave tomorrow, I leave this place in the hands of those who I know will treat it well, the future classes and future generations of scholars and students who will love this school as much as I ever have. And I know, too, that whatever impact I held here will fade, and though I may return, it will never be quite the same; William & Mary will change, and so will I.

For everyone who encouraged me, supported me, challenged me– thank you. For every struggle I faced and overcame, for every memory that makes me laugh out loud, for every sunset I watched over the Sunken Garden, for the stars that glimmered brightly against 2am skies– it was worth it. These years have been the best of my life.

This was my college, my home; this was my story.

But it was only one chapter. The rest is yet to come.
Over and out, William & Mary.