The Cornell Daily Sun (https://cornellsun.com/tag/graduation-column/page/2/)
In all of my columns, I’ve sugarcoated the truth. Whenever I’ve talked about bad things that had happened or ugly truths, I added a big fat BUT. Yeah, life kicked my ass this semester, BUT it was a learning experience. I continually fail to live up to my expectations for myself, BUT I’ll do better next time. I’m tired of the “BUTS.”
I guess after four years here I am truly a Cornellian, though I’m not entirely sure what that means. Mutual suffering in Baker Lab and abnormally strong calves? Or maybe it’s the memories that played like a corny coming-of-age montage in my head when the family at the restaurant asked me “Did you like it?” and I said “Yeah.”
This column showed me that there is a way in which I could contribute to campus conversation and share my experience in digital agriculture to engender some much-needed discussion about Cornell’s role in our local community.
I joke to my friends that my column is the only thing about Cornell that’s never felt like a chore — I’ve never cried about my column, never fought over my column (except with my mom who is fond of censoring my writing before I send it to my editors) and never questioned if it was the right decision for me. Rather, my column has encouraged me to open my eyes to new career opportunities, encouraged me to reflect on the best and worst parts of my Cornell experience and was fun when life wasn’t fun.
I met my Freshman year roommate on Facebook. He seemed nice enough and worried about the possibility of roommate disaster. I was happy to commit to 9 months in the same shoe box with him. The night before move-in day, my family drove up to Ithaca and we spent the night in a small hotel about 10 minutes outside of the city. I walked into the lobby, bubbling with excitement, nervous for my first day of school. My new roommate, off the plane from Taiwan, was the first face I saw.
After one of the most important people in my life was diagnosed with an aggressive cancer during my senior year of high school, I experienced a period of early maturity in which I became intimately aware of how important time is. I was no longer able to relate to the friends I surrounded myself with since childhood and I no longer recognized myself.
For every event missed because I was covering a game or asking questions at a presser, I created an entirely different set of memories that I’ll look back on whenever I think about my college years. From going to an ECAC Tournament and sleeping on the freezing cold hotel room floor to complaining about Midnight Edit at one of The Sun’s infamous last-night-of-publishing parties, I got to be a part of some pretty memorable times.
I feel torn between an unwillingness to believe fatalistically in endings, and a fear that I might be underemphasizing the uniqueness of being at Cornell and at Ithaca. The above quote feels like an important reminder: the urgency with which I need to love remains throughout my life. What changes is the context and circumstances through which I can love people, pursuits and causes.
It’s hard. Harder than you expected. It’s not a straight or predictable path to the finish line. Your seasonal affective disorder will not serve you. Balancing work and life is an impossible pursuit, and the weather is depressing for 75 percent of the year. But you are lucky to attend school in one of the most beautiful, vibrant, crunchy college towns in the country! You can find fulfillment if only you step out of your comfort zone, and say yes to dinner invites! The Commons is only 15 minutes away if you sprint down Buffalo Street! This place has so much to offer beyond academics! Oh, and no, you will not master latte art, but you will master mediocre barista-ing at your dream workplace — CTB!
Growing up, I always sought an older brother figure, and I got that from Bill. I took his music taste, his hand-me-downs and later his love of writing. I spent Thanksgiving with him, and after debating Mac Miller’s discography for hours, I wrote my first article for The Sun (which was rejected by Pete which convinced me to compet for assistant Arts and Entertainment editor so that I could force it through). That conversation in 2019 came out of nowhere, and reminded me why I started writing in the first place.