These past few years, I have found nothing more annoying than someone who introduced themself as a fourth-year student and tacked on the seemingly obligatory “I don’t want to talk about it” at the end — as if being in the final year of college was the equivalent of qualifying for AARP or getting fitted for dentures. So imagine my surprise throughout this fall as I have continuously introduced myself by saying, “I’m Grace. I’m from the Boston area. I’m a fourth-year. I can’t believe it. I don’t want to talk about it.”
While being a fourth-year student is, in fact, not the equivalent of qualifying for social security, sometimes it feels just the same. And it’s something we oldheads don’t want to think about, let alone admit to a classroom full of — often younger — peers. Navigating my final fall on Grounds, however, has forced me to acknowledge the frightening reality of my limited days left at the University. Over the past month, I have realized that making the most of these fleeting moments means just living in them, rather than painfully focusing on trying to appreciate them.
This past summer, recent graduates continuously reminded me that graduation creeps up on you out of nowhere. One day you’ll be reading on the Lawn and sunning on Mad Bowl, and the next day life will pluck you from the world of Tuesdays at Trin and Fridays at frats and drop you into the realm of conference calls and corporate lunches, all in the blink of an eye…